


My Nawa Jūjun

by Romaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 50,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romaine/pseuds/Romaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small, unsolved case has Auror Harry Potter annoyed.  His persistence pays off, and the answer reveals what his favourite DADA professor, Remus Lupin, meant by "the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Betas: Thank you so much Bubba and thank you CDumbledore for putting on the final shine.

**My Nawa Jūjun**  
Part 1 of 5   
by Romaine

_Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it._ Remus Lupin Chapter 18, Prisoner of Azkaban.

_March 2003_

The midnight air cracked at the same moment Harry peeked around the corner of the Three Broomsticks. "Damn it," he muttered as the _Petrificus Totalus_ spell hit the brick wall. He lowered the hawthorn wand and walked down the darkened alley. As with most pathways in town, it appeared to be devoid of debris. " _Lumos,"_ he whispered, and began scanning every crevice. It would take just one hair to find out who the wizard was. He spotted something and bent down to inspect it. With gloved hands, he picked up a small clump of fur. Instinct told him to take it; he withdrew a plastic bag from his robe pocket, put it in, and sealed it.

"It's from a raccoon, Auror Potter," the ancient witch said as she lifted the fur with tweezers and brought it up close to his face. Harry had been startled the first time he'd met Witch Trudy, the name she insisted upon being called. He thought she looked like what most Muggle children think of as a witch: hunch-backed, long crooked nose, and pointy teeth. She'd run the forensics lab as long as anyone could remember. Every tiny detail to her was important, and no case had a priority over another. He'd waited four days for this meeting. That she'd called him down to her laboratory was a good sign. Usually, she had her familiar, a raven, deliver missives with the critical information.

He took a step back as her gnarled hand shook and the bits of fur almost touched his nose. 

"A raccoon?"

She lowered her arm and turned back to her marble workbench. "Yes," she cackled, "not native to this land. But there's something else, my dear, oh, yes, there's something else."

Harry coughed and covered his mouth trying to restrain himself from laughing. "What is it?" Harry asked after clearing his throat.

Her hand rose and one bent finger beckoned him to come closer. He moved next to her and leant over the worktable. "This," she said and her long grey fingernail pointed to one short strand of hair. "Human hair, it was mixed in with the rest."

Harry stood up, his eyes widened. "Is there a match?"

She turned to him; her dark eyes, enlarged by magnifying spectacles, brightened. "No, no match with any wizard or witch we have on file. But it has a root, as does one piece of the fur."

"And?"

"And," she said, poking him in the stomach with her finger, "and they match." 

Harry's brow furrowed. "They match? The raccoon and the human hair match?" he asked in disbelief. His brain engaged and he began recalling his forensic classes from five years before. There was no recollection of anything relating to this. _Wait, wait a second,_ it wasn't from forensics, it was from his training in how to track a werewolf. Then the memory of how training can never fully prepare you for such an encounter made him wince. "Werewolf?" he responded, not truly believing it was the correct answer. 

"Close, Auror Potter, but not a Dark creature."

She held his stare as he continued to think. 

"Human and animal, animal and human," he muttered continuously.

The old witch nodded her head each time as if drawing the answer from deep within his brain.

"Animagus!" Harry burst out.

"Yes, very good, but a true Animagus would only have animal fur. What we have here, Auror Potter, is some witch who's stuck in transformation."

"Witch?"

"Yes, witch."

"But, the reports have said a wizard has been spotted after the break-ins."

The old witch laughed, at least that is what Harry thought it was; the raspy sound was high-pitched. He would have to tell Ron about this peculiar incident. Witch Trudy was never known to laugh.

"We've got ourselves a mystery, haven't we?"

Harry looked back down at the evidence. "One that's lasted for five years."

"Many mysteries have lasted longer than that, Harry Potter. If you happen to find this raccoon-witch, bring her to me. I might be able to help."

******************

The detailed map of Hogsmeade covered the conference table. This was his case to work. Actually, it was more like a hobby, and he worked it in his spare time. It was the only one on the books not to have been solved. They were only minor incidents, but it bothered him. He didn't like the idea that someone or something could be so elusive for so long. That signalled trouble to him. Harry went over every single mark on the map that showed the day and time of the break-ins for each establishment, the latest one being the Three Broomsticks. There was no rhyme or reason to it. No pattern. He walked around the table holding his Gryffindor coffee cup in hand. Every single establishment had been hit and a few homes. Nothing of consequence had ever been taken, just bits of inventory, including food from each store and small items from the homes. Only three citizens had ever recorded their observations. They each saw a creature scurrying along the ground and then a heavily robed wizard Disapparate soon afterwards.

Five years ago, soon after the war, the incidents were frequent, then they came to a complete stop some months later, and a few months ago, they had started up again. Harry lifted his wand, waving it over the parchment. _What was new in the last few months that had not been hit?_

"Harry, did you need something?"

Harry glanced up at his housemate, who was making a name for herself in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"Yeah, have you ever heard of someone getting stuck while becoming an Animagus?"

Hermione's eyes were transfixed on the parchment where icons of establishments and homes were highlighting as Harry's spell worked through the algorithm. "Um, you mean being stuck in their animal form? No, not that I've ever heard. Of course, there's only a few registered Animagi. It's one of the most difficult spells to conquer, and they don't teach it at Hogwarts because...."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "No, I mean being stuck in the middle of a transformation?"

Hermione grimaced. "Oh, that is just disgusting."

Harry laughed. 

"Okay, so why wasn't it taught at Hogwarts? I taught the D.A. to do...Malfoy!" Harry yelled.

Hermione giggled.

Harry blushed. "God, I so didn't mean that. It's just that the only recent shop that hasn't been broken into is Malfoy's Estate Resale Shop."

Hermione leant over the table. Harry could tell she was doing what he had done earlier: looking for a pattern. She scratched her head and sighed. "Malfoy wouldn't need to break into places, and as far as I know his parents haven't disinherited him. Unless...."

"Unless what? He's a kleptomaniac?"

"Well?"

"I don't think so, even though the monthly inspections haven't turned anything up, it might be worth checking out his shop personally. I know he evades me like the plague since his return from abroad. Maybe there's something he's hiding," Harry said as he waved his wand, and the parchment rolled up into a cylinder. "So what's the issue with the spell?"

"Oh, um, it seems to be one of those magical conditions, which you either have the capability or not, like Metamorphmagus. And even if you do have it, it's still difficult to master. There are a few in the history books who preceded Hogwarts, but all the other known and registered Animagi are or were Gryffindors."

"Skeeter?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Harry, think of the bollocks it takes to write what she does. Not all Gryffindors use their powers for good."

*************************

“Yes, Mrs Baker, the spell is guaranteed to last for a century. I cast it myself,” Draco said to the young Squib mother with three magical children in tow. He kept his eye on them making sure they didn’t get into things they shouldn’t. His attention was brought back to the woman as she once again opened the drawers of the dresser and dumped baskets of clean laundry into them, only to watch the clothes magically separate, fold themselves, and move into the correct place.

“Oh, Mr Malfoy, I can’t thank you enough for opening this shop. It has been a real lifesaver. You know since Mr Baker had his accident he can't…” Draco’s attention was drawn away by the sound of the bell over the shop door. The late afternoon sun was shining through the windows and all he could see was the silhouette of a wizard standing there. From the stance alone, he knew it wasn’t a customer. 

“Excuse me, Mrs Baker. I'll be right back,” he said with a smile, and patted her on the hand.

As he approached the entrance, his adrenaline began to rise. The wizard who had entered his establishment was no ordinary wizard; it was Auror Harry Potter. Draco counted to ten as he came closer to Harry. His eyes travelled up and down the wizard, taking it all in. The black riding boots and the Auror robes made his pulse quicken, and the mirrored sunglasses increased his anxiety. He felt unduly uncomfortable not being able to see someone's eyes and where they were looking.

“Auror Potter, what can I do for you today?” Draco said trying to sound unconcerned.

“It’s business, Malfoy. I’ll wait,” Harry responded authoritatively.

Draco narrowed his eyes as Harry removed his sunglasses and gave a quick swipe through his short cut hair. Draco hadn’t been this close to him in five years, and those years had been good to Potter, but there was no reason to acquiesce to the Auror’s presence. “You’re aware that two Aurors were here last week for the monthly inspection, aren’t you? I thought everything was fine.”

Harry looked past Draco at the woman and three children. “Just finish your transaction and we’ll have a little talk.”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away. “Fine, Potter.”

He could barely listen to Mrs Baker blather on about her husband’s illness. His eyes kept shifting to Potter who was now cruising his estate resale shop with his hands clasped behind his back. Draco took notice whenever Harry stopped and paid special attention to a particular item. Currently, he was leaning over the glass enclosure holding heirloom jewellery pieces; none of them were tainted with Dark magic. The Aurors had done a clean sweep the day he opened and found nothing.

“And the children are just running me ragged,” Mrs Baker sighed. Draco gave her a consolatory smile and put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the counter to write up her order. The two boys and their sister were getting antsy, and began a game of hide n’ seek. Draco reached for his wand to cast a charm to protect his inventory when the kids suddenly became frozen in place.

“What do you think you are doing, Mr Malfoy? How dare you! I'm going straight….”

“Straight to where?” a low voice said from across the room.

Mrs Baker spun around, her brown eyes widening at the wizard who was suddenly right behind her without having made a sound. “Um, um, Auror Potter. I— I didn’t know that was you.”

Harry gave her a gentle smile.

“It’s okay, Mrs Baker. I'll release the spell, but it would probably be best if you didn’t bring your young ones into Mr Malfoy’s shop.”

“Is— is there Dark magic here?” she asked, her voice cracking with fear.

Harry laughed. “No— none that I can detect. I was actually more in fear of Mr Malfoy’s merchandise being damaged by the children.”

Draco exhaled deeply. He hadn’t realised he had been holding his breath during the verbal exchange. His eyes focused on Harry and the two holstered wands he was sporting; one of them used to be his. Neither wand had been touched when the spell on the children ended. Draco took advantage of the moment to study the face that had infiltrated his visions for the last few years.

Mrs Baker returned her attention to Draco to place her order. Harry was now on the floor playing with the kids. The children were sucking on peppermint sticks and being mesmerised by conjured stuffed rabbits hopping around the shop. Harry had pulled the candy out of his pocket and given it to them. Draco tried not to be obvious as he stole quick alternating glances at Harry acting like a child and the rabbits that he longed to pounce on. 

"Well, what is it, Potter?" Draco asked as he walked over to the display case in front of the register and wiped away the sticky handprints the children had left.

"I was curious as to whether you've had any break-ins, any items missing?" Harry said after removing a peppermint stick from his mouth.

"No, can't say that I have. Of course, I will notify the Ministry if such an occurrence does happen."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So maybe you can tell me why your place is the only one that hasn't been affected?"

"I don't know, Potter, maybe they're afraid, given my background."

"Oh, yes, you were such a scary Death Eater," Harry muttered as he looked about the main room.

"Fu— forget it. It doesn't matter what you think; the label still makes people wary."

Harry nodded and walked through a wide-open doorway and into another room filled with more furniture and cases with breakable items. Draco followed him. This room was his favourite; the scent of antique furniture and old magic put him at peace. He took a deep breath as Harry spotted the oval Cheval mirror along the far right wall and made his way over to it. He wasn't surprised that Harry was drawn to it, he was sure its magic was reaching out to him. The previous Aurors who had shown up were Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs; he'd always wondered what _this particular_ Gryffindor would think of it. 

Harry reached out, touched the golden filigree frame, and then slipped his regular glasses on to get a better look. Draco could only hope Harry would be transfixed by what the obvious revelation was and not see what else the freestanding mirror showed. No, maybe it would be best; maybe it was time. Harry leant forward and inspected the symbol markings and drawings of lions, wizards, and witches on the base and posts held up by lion claw feet. 

"Gryffindor's?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Where did you get it?"

"Voldemort," Draco replied, intentionally using the Dark Lord's name.

Harry's jaw set. "Explain."

Draco swiped his lips with his tongue and swallowed hard. He knew at some point Harry would find out about the mirror, and he'd practiced his explanation; he just didn't expect it to happen today. It would be detrimental for it to be destroyed. "He brought it to my family's home in the autumn of _that year_."

"Go on. Did he say where he got it?"

Draco sighed. "He never told me, but my father said it came from Godric's Hollow. He guessed from Batilda Bagshot's home."

Harry's fingertips ran along the frame, tilting it back and forth, and then he closed his eyes. Draco knew that Harry was trying to feel the magic imbedded into the silvered-mirror. "It looks familiar— feels familiar," Harry said softly and then he turned the mirror to its complete vertical position. There was no escaping the inevitable so Draco stepped up next to him. Harry laughed and turned his head side-to-side as a black leopard kitten grew into a full-grown black panther. The panther in the mirror, with a faint white lightning bolt across its forehead, mimicked his head motion. The snow leopard next to it stood perfectly still. Draco's eyes focused more on the background shown in the mirror. It morphed from a quaint parlour room to his shop.

"Did you see that?" Harry asked excitedly.

"What, that we happen to be looking at two leopards?"

Harry flicked him on the head; the black leopard cuffed the white one in the mirror, a hiss and show of teeth came from both. "No, you git, the room it showed in the beginning. It resembled the few pictures I have from when I was a baby; that was an image of my home, my parent's home."

"Really, then maybe you can tell me what this means?" Draco said enthusiastically as he flipped the mirror over. The plain wood back looked blemish free. Draco bent down and pointed to scratch marks that ran along the bottom edge, they had been a mystery to him for the previous five years. Harry knelt down, examined the marks, and then began to laugh.

"The bastards!" Harry chuckled. "Malfoy, what does this mirror do? I'm sure it has something to do with becoming an Animagus."

Draco stood. "It reveals what your Animagus form would be if you could do the transformation. From what I know it helps those learning the spell to have a better chance of being successful. I assume because you can focus on the type of animal you would turn into. So what do the markings mean?"

Harry rose and flipped the mirror back round so he could see the cat images again. "They're footprints or rather paw prints of a dog, a stag, and a rat. The dog's prints are for Padfoot, your cousin, my godfather, Sirius Black; the stag, Prongs, was for my father, and the rat...."

"Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew," Draco said with disgust. "That's how he knew how it worked." He watched as the dark leopard swished its tail frantically; he glanced back at Harry, thankful his arse wasn't twitching. 

Harry lifted his foot and watched the leopard mimic him. He snarled and then jumped at the sound that reverberated back. Draco put his hand over his face and coughed trying to not to laugh.

"So have you tried to do it? I recently heard only Gryffindors could manage the spell."

"Really, Potter, that's like saying only Slytherins can be Parselmouths."

The back fur on the dark leopard rose. The tail became still. "I'm not a Parselmouth anymore, Malfoy. So it might still be a fact. Now, are you trying to evade my question?"

Draco sighed. He could banter back and forth with Harry all day, but eventually he would relent and show him. A part of him was proud a Slytherin could do it. A flash of light filled the space where Draco had stood. A snow leopard took his place. Harry's eyes travelled back and forth between the cat and the reflection in the mirror; Draco Malfoy was in the mirror. The cat next to him began to sniff his leg, and to Harry's delight its counterpart bent down and began to do the same to the black leopard. Harry petted the large white and black cat. It snarled. In return, the black cat pawed Draco who snarled and didn't look pleased. Another flash of light and Draco returned.

The bewildered look on Harry's face gave Draco the confidence for the questions he knew would be forthcoming. He had the edge; Potter was ignorant about the mirror and about the spell. He could finesse the outcome through his presentation of details. Somewhere deep inside he had known this day would come. He would need Potter's help; he just wanted it to be on his terms. The strain of the situation had become too much.

"Do you need the mirror to learn?"

Draco withheld the sigh, he expected Potter to understand at least _that_. "No, and if you knew who was registered or those in the past, you would know Rita Skeeter didn't have access to it. I'm not sure about McGonagall or the few others who are registered."

"So it's not a Gryffindor trait," Harry mumbled, sounding disappointed.

"Potter, as much as this goes against my better judgment, why don't we have tea, and I will tell you what I know. It's been a long day and the spell drains me."

"Yeah, you're looking a bit piqued." Harry said and turned away from the mirror. He took one-step forward and spun back around, leaving a black scuffmark on the wooden floor. His head turned back and forth. "There's a door on the far wall in the mirror, but not here."

"Yes, I was beginning to doubt your prowess as an Auror."

"Well?" Harry said impatiently.

"Tea first, Potter."

**************************

Draco led Harry back to the main room and up a back wooden stairwell. He withdrew a simple skeleton key and unlocked the only door at the landing. "Welcome to my home," Draco said, without the sincerity the words usually implied. He took his cloak off and hung it on the coat rack. Harry snickered as a brass hand clasped it and then he followed suit. The parlour room to the right was warm as the heat spread from a crackling fire. Every piece of Victorian furniture was exquisite. The first person he thought of was Aunt Petunia; despite the modern pieces that made up the house on Privet Drive, he knew she would have preferred a home like this. Shelves of magical knickknacks and still paintings of magical worlds were strategically placed throughout the room. 

"You can have a seat or follow me into the kitchen; it's going to be a few minutes for the tea to steep."

"No house-elf?" Harry asked.

"No, it's a luxury I no longer indulge myself with."

Draco walked down the narrow hallway; Harry followed, glancing up at the tall ceilings. Candlelit crystal sconces lit as Draco passed by. A few tall arched doors on the left were closed and Harry longed to open them, but the open archway at the end of the hall beckoned him with the scent of fresh baked bread.

The open and airy kitchen made him blink. The afternoon sun was setting and its final rays filtered through the bank of windows on the right wall. Draco opened the oven door with a mitted hand and withdrew a perfectly crusted loaf of white bread. "Marmalade or honey?"

Harry leant over the marbled centre island and examined the selection Draco referred to. "The Scottish thick-cut marmalade."

"Yeah, brings back memories of Hogwarts in the morning."

Suddenly, Harry realised what he was feeling: nostalgia. He wasn't sure if it was nostalgia for something he truly experienced, or rather nostalgia for an earlier time period he had never experienced. Whatever it was, it was warm and comforting. Draco measured out the tea and poured the boiling water into the ceramic teapot. He reached up to one of the many bevelled-glass fronted white-maple cupboards and took down two cups and saucers, and plates for the bread.

Harry felt his mouth salivating while he waited for the first bite; as usual, he had missed lunch.

"I have to be in front of the mirror to do the transformation. What you said earlier is correct, to do it properly you have to be a Gryffindor," Draco commented as he sliced thick slices of bread and laid them on the plates. A generous pat of butter was spread on each piece of bread and melted into each miniscule pocket.

"I don't understand how that can be. Hermione mentioned that people either had the trait or not, like a Metamorphmagus."

Draco shook his head. "No, it's because only Gryffindors have the bollocks to do it and not be afraid of the repercussions. For the rest of us, it's like a barrier is put up; every instinct screams not to try it, not to do it. Most other witches and wizards don't even see their reflection. As far as I know, I'm the only non-Gryffindor to see an Animagus form, but there have been rumours of others."

Harry sat down at the cloth-covered table by the windows. A vase filled with sweet peas added to the charm. The view of Hogsmeade below was charming. The town's lantern lights were coming on. Draco set down the cups of tea on their saucers and then the plates of bread. "But you did," Harry said as he coated the warm generous slice of bread with the chunky-orange marmalade. Draco drizzled the honey on his and it was at that moment that Harry reflected upon how relaxed he felt, and that for the first time ever he and Draco Malfoy were having an intelligent conversation. The corners of his mouth curled up at not only that thought but with the taste and texture that filled his mouth.

"I did, but it wasn't by choice. Well, no that's not correct. It was more as if I had a compulsion to do it."

Harry sipped the hot tea; a swirl of steam rose up and he breathed the Earl Grey scent in. "Why?"

Draco set down his slice of bread. "I'll tell you if you first tell me why you're really here? Putting the mirror aside, what information did you come seeking?"

"I can't say."

Draco nodded. "Then I can't help you."

Harry snorted. "I wasn't asking for help."

The roll of the silver-grey eyes ended the feeling of comfort. Harry wanted to strangle Draco, and that emotion scared him. It had been years since he'd felt something so visceral. A long silence ensued and was only broken by the six chimes from a clock in another room.

"It's against regulations, but I think we might be able to work around those."

The smirk that emerged on Draco almost made Harry want to just say forget it and walk away. But he knew Draco had something he was withholding, and given what had occurred downstairs, they could possibly be related.

"Remus once told me that the repercussions of not doing the spell correctly were horrible. Do you know what happens if an attempt to become an Animagus is not successful?" Harry asked. The diversity of emotions that Draco's eyes exhibited in one brief moment let Harry know he was on the right track. 

"It's not pretty."

"But it's not lasting, is it?"

Draco drained the last of his tea and stared out the window. The time had come to tell someone, and unfortunately, in this case, as the images had told him and the others, Harry Potter was the right person. "It is lasting if the witch or wizard attempting it hasn't been trained properly, or if their magic isn't strong enough, or if they were coerced into doing it."

"I— I don't understand. I mean there's a spell to force an Animagus back to its human form. I've seen it."

Draco stood and went to another cupboard. A bottle of brandy was produced with two snifter glasses. "The parlour is probably a better place to discuss this."

Harry shovelled the last half of his second piece of bread into his mouth. Draco grimaced. Harry shrugged and then followed Draco back down the hallway. Harry was motioned to sit in an old, brown-leather chair with a footstool by the fire. Draco closed the curtains, raised the fire and put up an Imperturbable Charm. A healthy amount of the amber liquid was poured into each glass, before he sat down in a matching chair.

"The spell works similarly to _Apparition_. Either you are successful or you aren't. You can't undo an Apparition and you can't undo do an Animagus transformation, except by changing back if you are successful. In Apparating you face the danger of splinching, and if you've ever done it, you know _Finite Incantatem_ doesn't work. It hurts like hell and you hope it was only a sliver of skin and not a limb or internal organ that was damaged. In the Animagus transformation, the consequences of failure are even more dire. You are partially transformed, and in what state that transformation leaves the unlucky witch or wizard, is dependent upon how well and strongly the spell was cast."

"Fuck, no wonder they don't teach it at Hogwarts."

Draco laughed. "Yes, many parents would've been disappointed if their little magical child came home as a dog with human feet."

"Ugh."

"Exactly."

"And you've seen this?"

Draco nodded as he tipped the snifter and heated the brandy over a candle sitting on a table between them.

"Recently?"

Another nod as the warm brandy was imbibed. 

Harry stared into the fire, his mind filled with ghastly images of half-human half-animal creatures. "Is there any method that can make them completely human or animal? Even in splinching, if the body part can be found, it can be re-attached."

The heavy sigh caught Harry's attention, he glanced over at Draco who was staring into space, his narrow jaw held a small tremble. "Malfoy, you okay?"

Piercing silver eyes settled on him. "No, I don't think I am. I haven't been okay for a long time, but that's neither here nor there," Draco responded and then took another long sip of his brandy. Harry returned to watching the flames. "It is possible to become _unstuck_ , but the major stumbling block is that the closer one gets to being an animal, the more animal-like they become and the harder it is to cast the spell. As time goes on in this form, the wizard or witch becomes more feral, unless strict rules are adhered to."

"And you know this how?"

Another deep sigh and this time a hand clasped down upon Harry's wrist. Fingernails, longer than they should be, dug into his skin. Harry looked over at the wizard next to him. The grasp and the look matched, Draco was silently pleading for understanding. Words seemed to be frozen on Draco's lips and he couldn't get them out.

Harry set down his brandy snifter and placed his hand on Draco's, which was now shaking. For the first time in his life, he looked Draco Malfoy in the eye without malice. "Mal— Draco, do you need this to be off the record?" Harry stumbled over using Draco's first name; he had learned early that when taking statements from a victim, it was best to use their first name. Malfoy's current demeanour seemed to put him that category. Draco didn't even seem to notice, and Harry knew then whatever Draco was about to say, cut deep.

Slowly, Draco's eyes shut and a head movement of yes was given.

"Okay, I can do that, but I need you to trust me."

A small wry grin appeared and Draco opened his eyes.

Harry chuckled in response. "I know it might be difficult, but I've been known to keep a secret or two." Fingernails dug deeper into his wrist. "Draco, let me give you two reasons why I think you can trust me and why I know in some strange way I can trust you."

Harry removed Draco's hand from his arm and withdrew a wand from its holster. Draco's eyes tracked the hawthorn stick Harry held in his hand. Harry held it out on his palm for Draco to take it. "Your wand came through for me when I needed it most. Not only was it the wand I used to cast the spell when I duelled with Voldemort, it has also helped me through the years since. There are certain instances, where it is your wand that I instinctually reach for, and not my own. I can't tell you why, but it's never failed me."

Draco's eyes widened. His hand held one end of the wand, while the other stroked the wooden shaft.

"I would also say that it's highly unlikely that those two leopards down there are a mere coincidence." 

The fire popped and sparked, both turned towards the innocent sounds. Draco lifted the wand and cast a charm to increase the blaze. He smiled and then handed it back to Harry. "I think you might need it more than me."

"Thanks," Harry said and set it on the small table between them. He picked up his brandy, sat back in his chair and put his boots up on the footstool. "Talk to me, Draco."

Draco picked up his wand again and soon a quilted blanket arrived. Draco put his feet up on the footstool and tucked the blanket over and around his legs. "I chill easily, a side-effect of being a leopard too long. I think my body got used to having fur."

Harry let the comment slide by. He had learned after years of interrogating suspects and interviewing witnesses, there was a time to be quiet. Draco claiming he had been a leopard definitely qualified as one of those moments. He brought the brandy to his lips and prepared himself for what was to come.

"I wasn't abroad for three years. I was at the Manor getting in trouble for stalking birds and gnomes in the gardens. Actually, Mother was pleased about the gnomes, but the birds she liked, and so did I for mid-morning snacks. Father wasn't pleased about any of it, especially when a peacock turned up missing. Of course, what was he to do? I could've easily killed him, and it crossed my predator's brain daily to do just that. To the rest of the world I could've passed as a snow leopard, but if they looked closely, they would've noticed my eyes didn't dilate like a cat’s. Who knew that something so mundane could have such an effect? It was only when I succumbed to a complete depression, and thought suicide would be a way out, that I completed the transformation. Apparently, the human part of me relinquishing the will to live caused the success. That was about a year ago."

Harry cleared his throat.

"Did you want to say something?"

"No, go on," Harry said.

"No, you wanted to say something, and if I can't trust you to ask a question, then we can stop right now."

"Okay, okay, but it was just a thought that popped into my head."

"Well?" Draco asked, staring at Harry intently.

"I was wondering how a leopard would commit suicide."

Draco burst out laughing. 

Harry joined in. "I'm sorry, Draco, but that's what crossed my mind. See, you should've trusted me when I said go on."

"I thought about eating my father, and then I was sure my mother would kill me, but it just seemed wrong."

Harry snorted. 

"Seriously, I was going to leap off the lookout tower. Landing on one's paws wouldn't make a difference from that far up. Of course, Mother would have been devastated and Father pissed that I made a mess."

Harry glared at Draco. "I think Lucius Malfoy would've been devastated too."

"Yeah, I know, but our relationship is strained at the moment, so I like to think of him as evil."

"Not a big stretch," Harry mumbled while he sipped his brandy.

Draco sneered at Harry.

"Best continue with what you saying before. But, first, may I have some more bread? I completely missed lunch and I'm already starting to get pissed from the brandy."

"Ah, yes, food, I wouldn't want a pissed Harry Potter at my home. Merlin knows what could happen."

"You'd be surprised," Harry replied.

Draco gave him an easy smile and removed the blanket. "I have a pot of stew I can reheat, that is if you don't mind leftovers. I made the bread to accompany it."

Many thoughts of why those words coming from Draco Malfoy seemed wrong, but he held back the instinct to banter with him. "Sure, that would be great. Do you need some help?"

"No, I'll just be a few. If you need the loo it's the first door on the left," Draco said as he exited the parlour.

Harry rubbed the rim of the snifter of brandy. His eyes wandered around the room; it was so different from what he had seen of Malfoy Manor years before. The elegance was present, but this room was warm, comfortable, and soothing. He imagined Draco reading the _Prophet_ with his morning tea in the kitchen looking down upon Hogsmeade, and then reading late into the night by the fire in the parlour with an evening brandy to ease the troubles of the day. The mirror above the mantle reflected the shelf on the opposing wall. Statues of animals filled it. Seeing one of a leopard led him to reflect on what Draco had just told him: that he had been a leopard for over three years and that there were others who were caught in a similar nightmare. He sipped the brandy and rested his head against the chair. 

Soft music came from down the hallway. Harry removed his glasses, setting them on the table, and rubbed his eyes. He tried to stifle a yawn, but couldn't, so instead he indulged himself and closed his eyes. 

_The large rodent was scurrying along the heavily leafed floor. Its whiskers twitched as it sniffed the thick humid air. A loud shriek from the canopy overhead and the cat twitched its tail once before pouncing and capturing the small beast in its paws. One bite to its neck and it was dead._

"Harry, Harry, supper is ready."

Harry jumped and shook his head. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus on the person in front of him, and to try to register where he was and who was calling his name. Glasses were set in his hand.

"Draco...your house...shit...sorry...dozed off."

"It's okay, Potter, you're not the first to go to sleep on me. Dinner's on the table."

Harry grinned through the yawn that broke through, but his head wasn't clear. Images and sounds of faraway places he only knew from books refused to go away. "Be there in a moment," he said as he rose and headed toward the loo.

The bathroom was long and narrow. A stained glass window that covered most of the far wall was dark. He lit the sconce by the door and walked towards the coloured glass. The scene of tall grass, a blazing sun, and one tree surprised him. Then small bits of the glass began to move. He had never seen anything like it. A long strip of glass came down from the tree and swayed. He moved closer and saw the camouflaged, spotted cat resting in the branches of the tree, its tail swinging free. He shook his head again and returned to the sink. He turned on the tap and lowered his face towards the simple ceramic washbowl. The cold water jolted him out of his fog. He stared into the long oval mirror above the sink as he dried off. He barely recognized the man who stared back. With all of his Auror work, pushing for reforms, having to socialize for political reasons, all for the cause to make the magical world safe, he didn't have time for himself. The man in the mirror had grown up, and right now, that man was exhausted.

Harry put his glasses back on and out of the corner of his eye, he spied the closed curtain surrounding the claw foot tub; the flame’s flicker brought forth an image that had previously escaped his notice. Slowly, he turned around, squinting as he tried to comprehend the silhouette. It was definitely animal, but it wasn’t moving. His fingers carefully pulled back the curtain along it pole. “Oh, Malfoy,” he muttered as he saw the partial goat carcass leaning up in the tub. Streams of blood had coagulated around the drain, but there was no smell of rotting flesh. He closed the curtain and left the loo feeling more dazed then when he’d entered.

"I'm surprised you didn't hex me," Harry said trying to lighten his mood as he entered kitchen. With the natural light vanished, a wrought-iron chandelier over the table lit that section of the kitchen. The aroma of the stew and bread brought forth memories of the Burrow. Harry sat down at the table; Draco filled their glasses with an appropriate amount of wine. Harry admired the decanter the wine had been left to breathe in. The cut crystal played with the light.

"I'm not stupid, Potter. I assume the Ministry knows you're here."

"I— I just meant it must have been tempting."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "No, I think you're projecting."

“I’m not projecting, Draco. Given our past, it wouldn’t have surprised me if you had hexed me.”

“You’re right,” Draco sighed before sipping his wine. Harry couldn’t help but notice once again the length of Draco’s nails as he drank from the glass. "That part of my life seems so long ago. Just so you know, it never crossed my mind."

Harry tried not to look confused. The wizard sitting across the table had just entered the category of being an enigma. He picked up his fork, stabbing at a large chunk of meat in the bowl of stew, and an image of the goat came forward. “So what kind of meat is this?” he asked, trying not to sound paranoid.

“Beef.”

Harry swallowed and then forced the bite into his mouth. The meat was infused with herbs and flavours that extracted a moan after his first taste. "This is spectacular."

Draco smiled. "I have my talents," Draco replied and gave Harry a wink.

Harry covered his mouth hoping the food wouldn't escape as he coughed. This playful Draco, who happened to have a half-eaten goat in his bathtub, had him perplexed.

"Why did you do it?" Harry asked. It was the one question, out of at least a hundred, that came to the forefront of his thoughts.

Draco poked at the vegetables in his stew with his fork, but never actually took a bite. Harry examined his dinner companion. He looked gaunt, tired—no exhausted, but he had a glow about him that added to the confusion. "I thought I could help them."

"Who?"

"The others, the witches, the coven, whatever you want to call them. I thought I could help them. It was stupid and rather Gryffindorish of me to try. Anna tried to talk me out of it, and then when I became stuck, they were all furious with me. Oh, they forgave me, but I could see the sadness in their expressions towards me."

Harry set down his fork; it clinked on the bread plate. "The witches, they are all stuck? How many? Who are they?"

"So many questions, Potter, and I'm not sure if I can even make sense of it to explain it to you. They, the witches, are Godric's children, all Gryffindor witches or would have been if they went to Hogwarts. They were forced to try the spell, to try to change; _he_ wanted them as part of his arsenal."

"Voldemort forced them?"

Draco brought his hands to his face, occluding his features. "No, I did."

Harry sipped the wine, trying to calm himself and not give into the desire to yell at Draco. "Why?"

Draco removed his hands from his face and clasped them before his mouth. Slowly, he raised his eyelids and looked at Harry. Harry wasn't sure he had ever seen such sadness and guilt in one expression before. 

"Draco, why?"

Draco lowered his hands and rubbed his upper arms as if he was freezing. "I thought their best chance to do it was through me. Early on, it was either Pettigrew or me, and then it was just me after his death...." Draco stared into Harry's eyes as if measuring each word and then taking account of each reaction Harry made. It wasn't the first time Harry had seen this behavior, it occurred quite often during crime confessions.

"Go on," Harry said as he took another bite of stewed-meat.

"Voldemort hated the Ministry, even though he had control of it, he detested it. He let them play their games with condemning those who were Muggle-born, but he didn't like the idea that only a piece of paper could prove one's worth. He felt it should be something more, more like a test of magic. He knew about the mirror and what it was used for and he delighted in the idea of forcing young Gryffindors to do his will. Girls from rural parts of Britain were snatched and brought to my family home. They were placed in front of the mirror. Any of them that saw their animal form stayed at the Manor. The others were _Obliviated_ , and returned to where they came from.

"He wanted to experiment with the kids, to test for blood purity and magical power. He told me that if any of them succeeded in becoming a true Animagus, he would release them."

Harry coughed. "And you believed him?"

Draco snorted. "No, but I knew they would at least live."

"So you taught them the spell."

Draco shook his head. "No, at first Pettigrew did. I was assigned to watch Pettigrew. Snape never trusted him, and Voldemort agreed that I would monitor him. Pettigrew was told that I was to be his apprentice in the endeavour. I watched every move he made, and listened to every word of how he practiced before ever attempting it."

"Why just witches?" Harry asked, before biting into the soft carrot piece.

"I don't really know for sure, but my Aunt Bella was the one who brought each girl to the house. I think it amused her to see how frightened they were." 

Harry thought about pursuing the reasoning further, but getting into the workings of Bellatrix Lestrange was something he didn't want to get into right now. "So were there any successes?"

"No."

"Then why continue?"

Draco shivered. The blanket floated in from the parlour and he wrapped it around his shoulders. "There was no choice. He would've killed them if they didn't try. Of the five who tried during the Christmas holidays, four became stuck and one died. Her Animagus form was aquatic and she couldn't live on land or in the water without being fully formed. I scoured our home library at Christmas, and then at Hogwarts when I went back, for any information I could find. It was limited, but Hogwarts did have one book on the theory and history behind the spell. I was told when I was to return home for the spring break that there would be a new batch of witches to work with. I had just had a horrific experience a few hours before you and the rest of the Golden Trio arrived during spring break. It was a young girl named Beatrice, she was only nine. She wasn't like the other girls; I think she was from London. The mirror revealed her form to be a snake. Aunt Bella was so excited that she wanted the girl to try it right away. I tried my best and so did Beatrice, but her resulting form was one no one could or should have to...."

Harry put his fork down as Draco's voice became so soft he could barely hear him. His instinct was to get up and comfort the wizard who was struggling to stop tears from forming. "It's okay, Draco, I'm sure you tried your best."

Draco shook his head and pulled the blanket tighter around his body. He exhaled loudly and continued. Once again, his eyes bored into Harry's watching his reaction. "She had the body of a cobra, which was amazing that she got that far, but her face, her head was still human. Sh— she cried, and so did I. She begged me to kill her." Draco stopped speaking again and looked out the window. Evening was fully set in and the quarter moon was in view.

Harry's insides ached for his old nemesis. He knew what he must have felt. He remembered back two years ago to when he and Ron had tracked down a female werewolf in the high country. They found her wailing in an old barn after her transformation back to being human. She cried as she told them that the Wolfsbane had stopped working a year ago and her husband hadn't chained her down properly yesterday. She was hysterical, her clothes shredded and her body covered in blood. She crawled over to a pile of hay, throwing handfuls to the side. It was stained red, and then Harry saw the bodies. "My babies," she cried, and then begged to have them kill her. She couldn't live with repercussions of her act. It was Harry's one and only time killing someone. He released a sigh when he remembered it had been with Draco's wand. Ron had asked for a transfer soon afterwards. "You did the right thing, Draco."

"Did I?" he asked rhetorically. "I just couldn't handle it, and there were six more girls in the queue. I came upstairs to talk with my father; I needed to know if he'd ever killed someone, I needed to know how he dealt with the guilt."

Harry bit his tongue and didn't respond. He couldn't imagine coming to Lucius Malfoy to understand how to deal with guilt. 

"And then you all showed up. I knew it was you, but something clicked in my brain that this experimentation would only stop if you won. I couldn’t have cared less about your cause at the time, but the sickness that invaded my home had to cease."

Harry inwardly smiled, _at least some things about Draco Malfoy had remained the same_.

"But that was when I was young and ignorant."

Harry coughed. "Excuse me?"

For the first time since Draco began his tale, he smiled. "Thought that might get your attention."

"You've had my attention, Draco. I'm just not sure what to think of you personally right now."

A large grin broke over Draco's face. "I'm glad I have your attention, it's been a few years since I've had it." 

Harry snickered. "Didn't know you wanted it. But, since you now have it, I'm noticing that you aren't eating and you look tired."

Draco pushed his bowl forward to the centre of the table. "I'm not hungry. I'll eat later."

Harry grimaced, thinking of the goat.

"What?" Draco said, tilting his head trying to decipher Harry's expression.

"Uh, well," Harry stammered. He knew the image wasn't going to leave him and he had to know. "Um, well, I saw what was in the bathtub."

Draco burst out laughing. "Oh, my God, Potter, that's not for me; that's for the coven."

Harry shook his head. "Sacrifice?"

Draco continued to laugh and threw a piece of bread at Harry. "No, you git, their dinner. A few of them are carnivores, and unless I want my house covered in blood and guts, I make them eat in the bathtub."

"So, they're here, in your home?" Harry asked flabbergasted and looked around the kitchen, seeing if he could see anything unusual.

"No, they only come up when I invite them. They have their own place, behind...."

"Behind the door. So it was you I saw in the alley the other night with the raccoon."

Draco flinched. "You saw Missy?"

"Missy? Draco, all I saw was a wizard in a cloak Disapparate. I discovered some fur that was comprised of raccoon fur and a strand of human hair."

Draco smiled. "There are only a few human hairs left; she's getting close. She's quite the rascal and is good at escaping." 

Harry couldn't believe how animated Draco had suddenly become, and then things started to fall in place. He had felt responsible for these creatures and was still caring for them, five years later.

"Her real name is Mildred, but she hates it, so we call her Missy. Well those who can talk do. I wasn't able to for a few years so we communicated in the universal language, and...."

"The what?"

Draco went pale. "Shit! I can't believe I just said that. Potter, you can't tell anyone about this, about us, about them!"

Harry pushed his empty bowl forward. "I won't, Draco," Harry said emphatically. He could see Draco begin to shiver again. "Do you need me to take an oath?" Harry asked frantically as Draco's feet began to tap the wooden floor repeatedly. He looked to be going into a panic attack, something Harry was very familiar with.

"No, but I need you to go, now. You can come back tomorrow, but please go."

"I— I don't want to leave you like this," Harry said as he stood up.

Draco jumped out of his chair, raced out of the kitchen, and down the hall. "Go, Potter, go!" he shouted.

Harry ran after him; the front door was wide open. Harry grabbed his jacket and Draco's wand and bounded down the stairs. He saw the flash of light fill the side room and then heard the snarl of an agitated leopard. He Disapparated.

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was panting as he arrived in the Leaky Cauldron. The patrons gave him a quick glance and then went back to their drinking and eating. He stumbled over to the bar. "Hannah, I need a room." She handed him a key, and Harry fished out the payment from his pocket. The quizzical look she gave him was short lived. Harry mumbled, "Work related." He rushed up the stairs, unlocked the room, and collapsed on the bed. There was no way he could go home to Grimmauld Place in this state. If Ron or Hermione happened to be around there would be questions, and he didn't have any answers. 

He got up from the bed and opened the window, letting the cool March wind blow over him. He reached into his pocket and fingered the coin. He could give the message so easily and he knew the relief that would come, but instead, he removed his clothes and lay back down on the bed. He’d had too much to drink and he knew better than to do it while even mildly pissed. 

The glasses were set aside, and he crawled underneath the covers. He took ten deep breaths and imagined himself getting up from Draco's kitchen table and catching Draco as he tried to run away. And then — Harry thought — and then holding him tight, making his troubles disappear. Slowly, the anxiety retreated as the Draco in his fantasy succumbed to the embrace. 

It never occurred during the thick of a chase or capture, only when confronted with someone else's anguish, something he couldn't fix. He set his wands next to his glasses on the bedside table, and then snuffed out the hurricane lamp candle. He welcomed the darkness and tried not to think about Draco Malfoy as a leopard, or what he was doing now, or about the half-animal half-human witches, or about the damn half-eaten goat in the bathtub. It was a near impossible task.

*********************

The door was sealed, and the coven was safe for one more day. The discussion had been fierce. He knew he had violated their code of secrecy, not that the coven existed, but how they communicated. He paced the long hallway, still amazed at the benevolence they had shown to him. They'd all experienced the images of Harry Potter over the years, and knew he would be coming to them someday, and that Draco would be the conduit. However, he was supposed to consult with them when it came time to reveal their inner-workings. He had expected them to punish him with their silence. He begged for the discipline he knew he deserved. If the rules of the coven weren't obeyed, the consequences would be detrimental to all.

It was Anna who came forward and denied his request for the punishment of silence. She explained that he was human now, and humans make mistakes, and the mistake he had made was forgivable considering it was Harry Potter he'd been speaking to. Draco opened the bathroom door and set to cleaning up the blood and goat remnants that remained. He didn't deserve their kindness, he was the reason they were in the condition they were in. The clock chimed three from his small library. The irony didn't escape him, the rewards and punishments for a deed were always returned threefold.

Draco's agitation wouldn't subside. The loo was now immaculate and the kitchen sparkling. Indulging in more alcohol wouldn't be wise given Saturday was his busiest day in the shop. He opened the door to his bedroom. His mother hated this room; the simplicity of it went against everything she was raised with. The hawthorn bedposts were the only thing decorative. He had carved them the first few months after his successful transformation; the leopards' bodies stretched lean as they wrapped around the poles. The hooks were all strategically placed, including the ones from the ceiling. 

The cream walls were plain, devoid of any pictures or mirrors. The bedside table, with its lone candle, and the large trunk at the end of the bed were all of the furnishings in view. It was the trunk that Draco opened and rummaged through. Already, he felt the first tingle of calmness he craved. He extracted long, silky, red ropes and set them on the bed. He stripped off his clothes, banishing them to the basket in the adjoining loo. He lay upon the warming covers and whispered the spell, _"Incarcerous"_. The red rope slithered across blankets and began its work. Each wrap, each knot, each tighter bind brought him peace. Slowly, his breathing stilled, his heartbeat calmed, his racing thoughts diminished. The ends of the rope finally encircled the two bottom hooks, the final knots instigating the full restriction of movement and raising him off the bed. Only then, tightly bound, and suspended in the air did Draco cede to peace. 

*********************** 

"What time did you make it in, mate?" Ron asked, while piling his plate with Saturday morning's fry up. "Did you meet someone?"

Harry poured his morning coffee, diluting it with heavy cream and spoonfuls of sugar. "No, I just got caught up working on _the_ case and then went to visit Dudley." Harry hated lying, but he wasn't ready to tell Ron about Draco Malfoy and all that had occurred the previous night. Dudley was the one person that Harry was sure Ron wouldn't be running into anytime soon. Harry snickered to himself; he and Dudley did see each other on rare occasions, but Harry had used him as an excuse more than once when he didn't want Ron or Hermione knowing where he was or who he was with. Some things he preferred to keep quiet about. "So what are you plans for today?"

"Going to visit Mum. Want to go? Ginny won't be there."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, Ginny and I are fine; I'm sorry you don't like our understanding, but as Ginny said, 'It's not your business'. You go ahead to the Burrow. I have some more things I want to look into today."

"What is it that has you so interested in a few minor break-ins? Just leave it, Harry, and go have some fun. Seamus is in town and wants to meet up at the Three Broomsticks tonight."

"Good morning," Hermione said, covering her mouth as she yawned while walking into the kitchen. "Did you learn anything from Malfoy yesterday?"

Harry snorted. "Not really, but he was quite cordial given the circumstances. He reasoned that the he hasn't been hit yet because he's a former Death Eater."

"Makes sense, but I can't believe you went and saw Malfoy. Why didn't you tell me? I would've come with you."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, like that would have made him want to talk. His shop is interesting; kind of makes sense that he's working with old magical furniture."

Ron and Hermione both laughed. They sat around the table enjoying a rare Saturday morning alone. Usually, one of them had an overnight guest. Ron, recently having broken up with his most recent fling, was the usual culprit, but lately it was Hermione who brought home new friends. Harry only did so on rare occasions. Ron and Hermione would then take bets on how long the relationship with the witch or wizard would last. Harry would grimace at them, but it was all in fun. His other partners, those they didn't need to know about, they were more long term. Ginny would visit when in town, and unlike Ron and Hermione, their friendship still had benefits. The romance they each had when they were younger had diminished with time. It was the friendship they needed from each other. Romantic love just got in the way.

**********************

"I'm sorry, Auror Potter, but the only book we had disappeared _that_ year. I complained and asked then Headmaster Snape for his help, but he dismissed me, saying it wasn't important. I'm afraid it is irreplaceable."

Harry thanked the old librarian, amazed that she was still protecting Hogwarts' books. He was tempted to leave some of his peppermint sticks on her desk, hoping she would eat them and put on a pound or two.

Harry contemplated walking back to Hogsmeade and asking Draco for the book, but he had other bits of information he wanted to investigate before returning to Draco's shop. He walked down from the fourth floor to the first and into the makeshift office he used when guest lecturing for DADA. He threw in the Floo powder and arrived in his office at the Ministry of Magic. There were only a few Aurors on Saturday duty. He remembered the first few years when it was busy every day. No one questioned why he was there today; all of the other Aurors knew Harry was known to stop in at all times of day and night. 

The archive room was its usual disaster. Harry glanced around at the piles of papers and folders, and the overstuffed file drawers. He sat down on the rolling wooden chair and cast a Summoning Charm for cases involving reported missing persons for 1997 and 1998. Only three folders appeared. He quickly glanced through them. None of them reported a missing daughter. It was missing a grandfather, an ancient aunt, and to his surprise, a house-elf. Harry smiled knowing that thanks to Hermione's reclassification laws, house-elves were now being accounted for.

He rubbed his chin. No book, no relevant missing persons files. Draco held the information on both counts, and Harry hoped he would divulge without too much trouble. The bloke had consumed Harry's thoughts all day. He wasn't sure what to think of Draco Malfoy anymore. It was obvious he wasn't up to par and appeared a bit thin, but it was his demeanour that had Harry baffled; there was an unexpected gentleness to him. Maybe in some odd way being a leopard had humbled him. He also thought of the coven, as Draco called the witches; images of horror filtered in and out, but Draco seemed so protective of them. Gryffindor witches. Harry laughed. The poor Slytherin living with twelve brave, in your face, witches. A small part of him thought there was justice in the world.

After cleaning up at Grimmauld Place, he Apparated to Hogsmeade. While Disillusioned, he stood outside the window of Draco's estate resale shop. He put on his sunglasses as the evening rays reflected off the glass. He leant in closer, trying to see more clearly and to escape the gusts of wind. It would be closing time soon, but he couldn't resist watching the wizard interact with his customers. Only two people wandered about the store seeming to ask questions. Harry wished he had brought some Extendable Ears. It soon became obvious that Draco was tired and was hurting. There was a definite limp he was trying to mask. Harry wondered if the leopard had had a hard time last night with the coven. He reached into his pocket, withdrew a peppermint stick, and sucked on it, waiting for the customers to leave.

*********************************

The long sleeved turtleneck shirt under his black robes kept him warm throughout the day. A front was moving through and every time the door opened, a cold blast of wind blew into the shop. The shirt was also advantageous, in that it hid the rope markings. He rarely had kept them on so long, but the security and pleasure they brought overcame any hint of pain.

Saturday had proven true to form. He had been busy since the store's opening at ten. Soon he would have to gather more stock. He had expected most of his customers to be Squibs or Muggles who had married a wizard or witch; educated witches and wizards should have been able to cast the spells as he did. Little by little, though, he learned that he was gifted in this area: others who had tried had cast the spells with too much magic or not enough. His touch always seemed to be in the perfect dose.

When he saw the figure in his doorway at closing time, he wasn't surprised. He had prepared for Harry's reappearance. He shut down the till and turned the sign on the window with a flick of his wand. "Good evening, Potter."

"Same to you, Draco," Harry said as he approached the counter. "Everything okay?"

"Spectacular," Draco responded, with only hint of sarcasm. He hoped Harry would remove the sunglasses, which set him on edge.

"Do you want to go out and grab a bite to eat?"

Draco laughed. "No, I prefer not to be gawked at while eating."

"We could do Muggle, unless it's my company that you find offensive," Harry said, as he removed his mirrored sunglasses and tucked them into his jacket pocket.

Draco smiled. Harry looked more tired than the previous night. "Not London."

"Okay, but you'll have to come over here so I can Side-Along-Apparate you."

Draco slowly walked around the counter, his legs stiff from the bindings and from being on his feet all day. "Make it worth my while," he said teasingly and removed his robe, setting it on the counter.

Harry was pleased to see the glint of sarcasm in the grey eyes. "It's not too far from here," Harry replied, and placed his hand on Draco's shoulder.

"I hate back alleys! Why is it that we always have to arrive in smelly, dark alleys?"

Harry laughed. "So only the rats can see us. Come on, it's just around the corner."

"Ah, Edinburgh," Draco commented as they walked onto the main path. He hoped Harry literally meant around the corner; his legs tightened with each step he took against the wind. 

Harry led him to a small restaurant on Dundas Street. Draco peeked into the country paned windows. The stone fireplace and white covered tables met with his approval. Harry opened the door letting Draco enter first; by habit, he placed his hand on Draco's back. Draco glanced over his shoulder and winked at him. "Go on, you git," Harry said, and quickly removed his hand.

"Mr Potter, wonderful to see you again. We can have your table ready for you in a moment."

Draco glared at Harry. Harry shrugged. "Owner's a Squib." Draco raised his eyes.

They were led to the table by the fireplace. Draco took the seat closest to the blaze, and enjoyed the heat warming his aching legs.

"The venison is spectacular," Harry commented as he read down the menu.

"I don't eat venison, Potter. Shelley is part deer. It's one of our rules we live by."

"Roulade of Rabbit?" 

"Jane," Draco replied.

Harry bit his lower lip. The absurdity of the situation hit him. He tried not to laugh, knowing it wasn't appropriate. He finally squeaked out, "Scottish Lamb with Parsnip Puree."

"Elizabeth, but technically she's a ewe now."

Harry held the menu up to his face.

"Halibut with Shetland Crab and Sole Mousse," Harry mumbled.

Draco's eyes peeked over his own menu and he could see Harry's shoulders shaking. He kicked him under the table. "That would be acceptable, but I think I will have the Shellfish Risotto for the main course. Shall we share Goats Cheese Soufflé for starters?"

"Yes, that's right— goats are allowed."

"Bastard."

"Hey, I'm paying," Harry said as he lowered his menu.

"Fantastic, then I will have the hot sticky ginger pudding with stem ginger syrup and bitter lime sorbet for afters. And a good bottle of wine."

"No scotch beforehand?" Harry said as he unfolded the cloth napkin.

"Phht, of course scotch beforehand, but I'll leave it up to you to choose. I wouldn't want to break your budget. Even in your position, I can't imagine the Ministry pays _that_ well."

Harry snickered as a bottle of scotch and two glasses were set on the table without him having to order. Some place deep in his heart he found himself enjoying the snide remarks of his old nemesis.

"Privileges of being the Chosen One, I suppose," Draco remarked after the scotch had been poured and tasted.

Harry raised his glass. "To you Draco Malfoy, for making my life interesting."

"You must have one boring life, Potter," Draco replied raising his glass in kind.

"What is that?" Harry asked, while staring at Draco's wrist as the sleeve receded during the toast.

Draco took a quick look around the room inspecting those sitting closest to him. He turned back to Harry who had put his hand under the table. Draco quickly recognised that their voices would not be heard.

"Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

Draco couldn't believe the concern showing in the green eyes staring at him. The candlelight's reflections making them appear almost unnatural. "No, I'm fine. It's something personal."

"Okay, I won't press right now, but can you tell me what happened last night?"

The owner stepped over to their table and greeted Harry. Harry introduced Draco, and the man, to his credit, didn't flinch, but blinked his eyes repeatedly before responding with the expected good manners. Harry ordered for them and the owner graciously approved of their selection and left. Draco drank more than a few sips of scotch during the conversation. He knew he would need it for the upcoming discussion.

"Well, can you tell me or will it spark another anxiety attack?"

"You— you know about panic attacks?"

Harry brought his drink to his lips. "Yes, we're old friends."

"B— but your job?"

"My job is not the trigger. I don't get them often, but they're caused by feeling helpless, like I did last night."

Draco gulped. He couldn't believe that Harry Potter had just admitted to him that he was the cause of Harry having a panic attack. "So you really do have a problem with that saving thing, don't you?"

The way the corners of Harry's mouth curled up struck Draco more than it should have. It was the first time he ever thought of Potter being cute. Somewhat attractive in a carefree, wild way, yes, but cute, never. It was that damn Gryffindor honesty, though, that got to him. He should have expected it, given the group he lived with. After years of experience, he knew the best way was not to hint around the truth but to be forthright. That was how Gryffindors dealt with each other and the world. It really took the fun out of being clever. 

"So I've been told," Harry finally said. "So what exactly causes yours?"

"Betrayal."

Draco observed Harry try to process every deep layer that one word could mean to one Draco Malfoy.

"You betrayed the witches by telling me that you had a special way to communicate? Do you have an oath with them?"

"No, it's more than an oath; it's our way of living and believing. It's like betraying one's soul."

"Is it a religion?"

Draco shook his head as the starter they were to share was delivered to their table. It suddenly struck him that they would be sharing a dish together, which was something friends did. "No, not like a Muggle religion, it's just a way of viewing the world in the here and now."

"And you can now talk about this without betraying them?"

Draco nodded as his fork pierced the soufflé; he loved watching them deflate. "They approved of my telling you."

"So what do you want to tell me, Draco?"

"What do you want to know? Do you want to know who they are? What they do? What we believe? Why they don't hate me? What?" Draco asked, spewing forth the possible questions in rapid fire.

Harry grabbed Draco's wrist, while he was serving up portions of the soufflé. "No, Draco, I want to know who hurt you or why you hurt yourself."

"Damn you," Draco muttered as he grimaced with the pain that shot through him from the hold Harry had on him. "It's something I do with ropes to restrain myself. It calms me and it brings me pleasure. Are you happy now, Harry?" Draco asked using Potter's first name with disdain.

Harry raised a brow hearing his name. With his other hand, he rolled back Draco's sleeve further. One finger ran over the marks that remained. Chills ran up Draco's spine. No one had ever touched him like that before, with such tenderness. His sleeve was gently pushed back further, to his elbow. Harry carefully continued tracing the marks with his fingertip. "The macramé design," Harry whispered, "is beautiful."

The gentle touches seemed to calm his racing pulse. Draco beamed. "Thank you, I created it myself."

Harry's eyes glanced up from Draco's arm. Draco's pulse quickened with the reflected fire dancing in Harry's pupils. "And is it full body?"

Draco nodded. "Not all of it is this intricate."

The rise in colour to Harry's cheeks was noticeable. "Who's your partner?" Harry asked. 

Draco registered the forcefulness of the direct question, as one Harry would use in an official interrogation. He could barely answer as Harry continued the examination of his arm. No one had looked at his skin with such interest. "A spell."

Regrettably, Harry released his arm and returned to his drink, the wine yet untouched. "May I ask how you discovered this?"

Draco went back to picking at his starter. "It was necessary for me to be restrained when I first became a leopard. I was caged and eventually chained. My parents and the others feared me, but more importantly, I feared myself. The small human part that remained was afraid I would attack and kill my parents, those in the coven, and even the house-elves. Eventually, the witches who communicated in the universal language broke through to me and helped me learn to control myself. When I felt the animal instincts to be overwhelming, I would go to the cage by myself, and sometimes I asked for the chains. Being fully restrained gives me comfort knowing I can't do any harm." 

"Oh." 

Draco grinned and began eating the soufflé in earnest. 

"And then when you were successful in the Transfiguration and became a wizard again?"

"I had to find an alternative. It helps me when I've done something wrong or want to do something wrong. Once I reach the state of comfort, I can advance into higher states, and that is when comfort turns into pleasure."

"But, Draco, everyone does something wrong."

"No, wrong as in betrayal or immoral. You see, Harry, if you do harm it comes back to you threefold. That is how the universe works." Draco took another bite of the soufflé; the tangy cheese melted in his mouth. He felt relieved. He finally had told someone outside of the coven.

"And that is why you didn't think of hexing me yesterday?" Harry asked as he indulged in the soufflé. 

"Yes."

"Hmm, so you've become docile? Ouch!" Harry yelped as Draco's boot tip came in contact with his shin.

"Only to a degree, Potter."

Harry laughed. "Good, because I don't think the world is ready for a meek Draco Malfoy. However, Draco, we do need to talk about those marks. They shouldn't still be there and I'm sure you know it could be dangerous. I'm also wondering if that is why you're limping."

Draco's fork slipped out of his hand. "You— you know about this stuff?"

Harry nodded and continued eating.

"How? I've never met a ...."

"An m-o, nawa jūjun, or a nawashi?"

Draco shook his head. "English, Potter."

Harry chuckled. "It's Japanese. Nawa means rope and jūjun means obedient one, submissive. So nawa jūjun is someone who is rope submissive, or you could use M-o, which is a male rope model. Nawashi is a rope artist; the one who does the tying."

"And you would be?" Draco asked hesitantly. 

"The latter."

Draco's cock jumped. Draco jumped. That part of his life, which he had believed to be dormant, if not vanished forever, had just been resurrected.

"You're not having another attack are you?" Harry asked placing his hand on Draco's. 

"No, no. I'm not."

Harry patted him on the hand. "Good, because I would like to eat my dinner. Though, if you really were having an anxiety attack, I suppose we could see if my techniques would help you. Of course, the designs wouldn't be as extravagant."

Draco drained the last dribbles of scotch and reached for the wine, while Harry's hand still rested on his.

Slowly, Harry's fingertips trailed down the back of his hand over his long fingernails. "Sorry, I'm being presumptuous about your gender preference of who you would partner with. I do know a witch who is quite talented in...."

Draco's wine glass teetered for a moment as he tried setting it down on the table. "No, no, that's okay. I'm fine. Really I'm fine." 

"Okay, but it's really not something to play around with; you could easily do some nerve damage. And if you suspend yourself, with a harness or even magic, you could kill yourself."

Draco sighed, remembering how long he had suspended himself the previous night. He didn't know what to think about the turn of events. He had expected a grilling about the coven, not a discussion about being tied up. He needed to change the subject. As much as he was interested in it, his hardened cock was impeding his concentration.

"Draco, I'm serious. If you need to do this, I'll help you, or if you aren't comfortable with me, I'll recommend someone else."

"You would do that for me? Why? I mean, shit, Potter, wouldn't you be tempted to make it a bit more painful than it already is?"

Harry snorted. "Draco, just as you said you weren't tempted to hex me, I would never do more than you wanted. It's a partnership."

"But— but the word you used to describe someone like me...."

The turned up corner smile was back. It definitely made Potter look cute. Draco grimaced at the thought, though another part of him seemed pleased.

"Nawa jūjun does mean submissive, but to submit you must trust. You would trust me or someone else to bring you to the place you want or need to go. It is the control you'd let me have, and the state I'd bring you to, that bring me peace. It's not usually very sexual for me, though in my fantasies I hope to meet someone with whom I can combine the two."

Draco felt a tingle course through his body. "When did you turn gay?" Draco blurted out, embarrassed that he did so. Harry gave his hand a squeeze before letting it go and returned to eating his soufflé.

"I didn't turn, Draco. I just discovered, once I had the luxury to focus on other things besides whether I would I die or not, that I liked wizards as much as witches. I like sex."

"Slut," Draco teased.

"No, that would be Ron, though, these days Hermione might be in the running."

"They're not together?" Draco gasped.

"No, that was short-lived. Thank Merlin. Sex and romance just brought their arguments to a new level. We all love each other, as friends, and we need each other as friends. Sex and love just complicated everything. Well, except Ginny and I still manage to be friends with benefits."

Draco felt a rush of emotion, he couldn't place what the name of it was, but it had a hint of anger mixed in with it. "So she's still your girlfriend?"

"No," Harry said emphatically. "We are friends, and when the Harpies are in town, we sometimes get together and shag."

"Do you use the ropes?"

Harry raised his hand as the waiter approached and set down their main course.

"No, that is something separate," Harry said as he played with the stem of his wine glass.

Draco noticed a hint of mischievousness in Harry's tone. "I didn't mean to pry."

"Don't worry about it. Ginny doesn't have the temperament that is needed. She'd be more likely to want to whip me with them."

Draco laughed, though a part of him felt insecure about what it said about him. He knew only a few years ago that he would have hexed anyone to hell who tried to do that to him. _Was he now that damaged_?

Harry took a sip of the wine and then set it down and began eating the crab and mousse. Draco's insecurity increased with the sudden silence. He changed his focus to the meal before him. It was the first time he'd ever been served something so beautiful that was created by Muggle hands.

"It takes someone very special to focus all of that energy inward. I couldn't do it; in fact, I hate being restrained. I'm sure it's a result of experiences from my childhood and with Voldemort," Harry whispered. He took another bite of his dinner and wiped his mouth. "I have the utmost respect for a Nawa jūjun."

Draco shifted in his seat. For a few moments, his erection had diminished, but Harry's words brought it back to its previous state. Draco cleared his throat. "Why do you feel the need?"

Harry played with his food, stirring it around, while he stared into the fire.

"You don't have to tell me," Draco whispered. "Maybe some other time."

Harry's stare turned back to Draco. "No it's not that I don't trust you, it's just hard to describe."

"As hard as saying, 'I was a leopard for three years'?"

Harry chuckled. "Good point." Harry coughed into his hand. "It goes back to the feeling I've had as long as I can remember: not being in control. Someday, when we're drunk in some pub, I'll give you the details, but my life was never my own to enjoy until Voldemort was defeated."

Draco raised his glass. "Job well done."

Harry's special smile reappeared briefly and then vanished. "As time went by, though, I was unprepared for the panic attacks when they appeared. I narrowed the occurrences down to feeling out of control, well, rather that things were out of my control, like policies, and people needing and wanting my attention. I couldn't do it all.

"I was on an ambassadorial trip with Kingsley. We were visiting the Far East for a month's tour. The last country we visited was Japan. I was feeling poorly, but couldn't insult the Japanese Minister for Magic, and I'm thankful to this day that I didn't. The entertainment was a wizard and witch who practiced nawagei, rope art. It was like an epiphany for me. She submitted so beautifully and his shibari was exquisite. He was in control, but tender, and she let him do it and received her own joy from it. I could see that there was pain involved, but she overcame it and seemed to be in another place, a higher state of mind, and he helped bring her there. It was highly erotic to witness. Even in my own work, I find the experience almost orgasmic, as if I've reached a higher plane."

Draco nodded his head in unison as Harry continued. 

"I do it because it gives me control, and literally every wrap, every weave, every knot relieves the pressures I feel. In the end, the design shows a beauty, unsurpassed, in my eyes. I've been blessed by rope models in having complete control over their bodies, and I wrap up my troubles into a beautiful package. It is as I said climactic."

Draco dropped his fork again and it clinked on the plate before falling to the floor. It was quickly replaced. "I feel connected," Draco whispered, "that is where the pleasure comes in for me. I'm connected to the world, to the universe and its energy courses through me, but it's not sexual."

Harry gave Draco the softest smile he had ever been graced with. "So you've never come when tied?" he asked in a gentle tone.

Draco could feel his cheeks turning red. Harry's hand reached for his again and his thumb reached under his shirtsleeve and gently rubbed his wrist.

"No, I've considered myself asexual for the last six years. I haven't dreamt or thought about sex since I was tasked to kill the Headmaster," Draco said, making sure Harry's expression didn't falter at those words. He knew how much he had changed over the years, and it appeared Golden Boy had too. He almost laughed aloud as he reprimanded himself for thinking that way. Some old habits remained. 

"The last two years at Hogwarts were nightmares but for different reasons. Sixth year, my mother tried to protect me, Snape tried to protect me, hell, even Dumbledore tried, but they couldn't. I thought once my father returned it would be better, but then he wasn't even the master of his own home. After _that_ I dedicated myself to the witches I had damaged… until the spell went wrong."

"And this year, Draco?" Harry asked, while his fingers joined his thumb and stroked the tender bruised skin.

"This year, I've been in recovery. I've had to relearn what it is to be human and I treasure every aspect of it."

"No house-elves."

"No house-elves. I want to cook, clean, take care of myself. I won't ever take advantage of being human again. But up until thirty minutes ago, I thought that one aspect of being human was forever gone."

Harry squinted. "Thirty minutes ago? Wha— what happened thirty minutes ago?"

Draco took a deep cleansing breath and exhaled forcefully. "You mentioned tying me up. A part of my body responded."

Harry's glass of spilt wine was quickly cleaned up and replaced.

Draco enjoyed seeing Harry fumble about; it reminded him of the Harry he knew or thought he knew back at Hogwarts. "If you can't hold a wine glass, I'm surely not going to trust my body to you."

Narrow green eyes glared back at him. Draco winked and enjoyed watching Harry not able to hold the fake expression of anger.

"I have a book you could borrow. That is if you would like to read more about it."

"That would be appreciated."

Harry skewered a large chunk of crab leg. "Speaking of books, do you have the one from Hogwarts? Madame Pince is still upset that it's missing. I, of course, wouldn't return it."

Draco's stomach dropped. "Yes, but why do you want it? You'd better not be thinking about trying to do the spell or I'll— I'll never speak to you again."

Harry squinted his eyes and grinned. "That sounds more like an incentive."

"Don't be funny, Potter. I'm serious."

Harry set down his fork, the crab still waiting to be eaten. "Fine, Draco. We'll make a pact. I won't try the spell and you won't use the ropes alone anymore."

Draco shivered; already he felt the unease coming upon him. He needed to do it, he couldn't agree.... 

Harry's was suddenly handing him something. "Here, take this."

Draco took the large coin in his hand. "What's it do?"

"It calls me. I have the matching one in my pocket. If you need me, call me, and I mean it. Just rub it three times and say my name."

Draco gave a sigh of relief. "Anytime?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, anytime. I'll come."

"Okay, then we have a pact," Draco said and pocketed the coin. Harry ate his crab and dipped into the sole mousse.

"I checked the archives and there aren't any reports of missing children for those years," Harry said, as he finished his meal, wiped the corners of his mouth with the cloth, and set it on the table.

Draco pushed his plate towards the centre of the table. He hated leaving half the meal. At home, he would save it, but his upbringing wouldn't let him ask for a bag. "I'm not surprised. My guess is that they're recorded among the dead."

Harry opened his mouth to speak.

Draco lifted his hand. "These were simple folk, Potter, and I imagine the day Bellatrix Lestrange invaded their homes and stole their daughters, they assumed the worst, which would've been confirmed when they didn't come home after the war."

Images of Bella forced their way into his thoughts. He hated the witch that took away Teddy's parents. "I imagine you're right, but why didn't they go home?"

Draco knew it was a valid question, but once Harry saw them, met them, and spent time with them, he would understand how naive the question was. "They didn't want to. They didn't want to be pitied or be an embarrassment or a hindrance to their families. They— we are a family. Once you meet them, Harry, you'll understand."

The waiter approached and removed the dishes. Harry leant forward on the table. "You would let me meet them?"

Draco couldn't help but smile at the excitement that showed in Harry's eyes. Potter was as clueless as ever. Of course, he would show them to Harry. They'd all been waiting for Harry. "Yes, but you must abide by certain conditions."

"And those would be?" Harry asked, as his eyes widened further.

"The first one is the most important; you cannot tell anyone about them."

"Of course."

"The second is a condition I'm going to require of you. No matter how much you may want to turn away when you meet any of them, and I mean any of them, you can't show any sign of disgust. These are very sensitive creatures, they're my friends, my family, and I will not have you hurt them."

"I understand. It's part of my job, and as you can imagine, I've seen some extraordinary things."

"Very well," Draco said, while his heart was pounding. The coven had been so excited last night once he got over his initial fear that he had betrayed them. The witches knew all about Harry Potter, but more important than that, they each had dreams of him. Draco would always treasure the memory of when he told them all at the same time who he had been talking to last night. The simple lightning bolt drawn in the loose dirt drew gasps and other sounds. "However, I think you should read the book first, and give us a few days to prepare. I also need to tell you a little about our beliefs so you don't accidentally insult any of them."

"Agreed, that would probably be wise. I've had my moments."

Draco bit his tongue. The quick remark he would have responded with years ago was right there. It struck him how strange it was that Potter would be the one to bring back those types of feelings. Negative or not, it felt nice to have some emotions coming through. He was still healing.

"Can you tell me their names?"

Draco split the remnants of the wine between their two glasses. "I could, but if you don't mind, I think I'd like you to meet them first. Some can talk, while others don't have that ability, but I want you to go in without preconceived notions of who they were before. They've changed; we've changed through the years."

"Fair enough. If that's what you think would be best," Harry responded as the waiter delivered their afters. 

Draco smiled as he saw Harry eyeing his ginger pudding. Of course, Harry's caramelised lemon tart with a brandy basket of raspberry sorbet looked tempting.

"Shall we?" Harry said, after paying for the meal.

'"Yes, and it was worth my while," Draco said smugly. "My first Muggle meal."

Harry shook his head as he scooted his chair back. The wind was even fiercer as they left the restaurant. Draco shivered and tried to quicken his pace. Harry grasped his arm as gently as he could. "Here you git. Just return it soon," he said as he handed Draco his jacket. Normally, Draco would have refused, but the cold stung his skin. 

"Thanks," he replied as Harry helped him put it on. 

"I'll send an owl with the book tomorrow. I see my godson, Teddy Lupin, every Sunday."

"Sure, and then I'll send my book back with your owl."

They walked in silence towards the back alley. Draco's nose twitched at the stench as they rounded the corner, it overwhelmed the intoxicating scent of Harry's leather jacket.

**************************

"More, higher, higher," the five-year-old boy yelled, as Harry pushed him on the swing hanging from the backyard tree. Harry laughed as the boy tried to kick a low hanging limb. He could feel the eyes staring out the kitchen window watching him. Andromeda was a wonderful grandmother, and no one could blame her for being so over protective of her grandson, but the young boy needed to be a boy. Harry adored the carefree laugh Teddy Lupin possessed; it was filled with Tonks' easiness and silliness, which contrasted with the worried brown eyes of Remus. 

Teddy spotted the barn owl as it approached and dropped the brown-paper wrapped package into Harry's waiting hands. He could only surmise that it was a short book, given the light weight, unlike the special package he had the owl deliver earlier. It was a last minute decision to send his own journal of drawings and notations along with the book; some were just simple deviations from the standard ties, and others were from his fantasies. But in the end, he knew Draco should see them. It was important that if he ever did receive the call from Draco that there'd be no surprises and that Draco understood what Harry was and wasn't capable of. He laughed with the little boy who was threatening to kiss the clouds on his swing, remembering there was a time he would have loved to have seen Draco Malfoy hog-tied, but then it would have been for revenge purposes only. He set the package down and slowed the swing, knowing the boy's grandmother's heart was probably in her throat. 

********************************

Sunday morning was Draco's favourite of the week. The shop was closed and his only responsibilities were to make sure the family had enough food for the coming week. The wind had cleared the skies and the morning's light lit up the parlour; the small fire was releasing just enough heat to keep him warm. He watered the African violets stationed by the Oriel window and glanced down at the quiet streets of Hogsmeade. Only the bakery was open and the owls were lined up waiting to pick up their deliveries. He spotted Sonja, she was third in line. 

He sat in the leather chair and sipped his steaming cup of coffee; the unopened package lay on the footstool. Another emotion was emerging and this one was pleasant. This one he could name: contentment. Why he was feeling it, though, bothered him. He looked at the jacket grasped in the brass hand's clutches. Draco knew he should have returned it when he sent the book, but it gave him a strange sense of comfort seeing it there. It was if the owner belonged and only had stepped out for a moment to pick up morning pastries. The room would seem empty without it.

Draco undid the wrappings and was startled to discover two books; one was the book Harry had promised, the other a brown leather journal elaborately wrapped in string. His curiosity was piqued and he pulled on the end of the tie and smiled as the twine quickly unravelled: a safety-knot, a release-knot that much he knew. He opened the book, and his eyes widened at what he saw. Harry had sent him his own personal drawings. Draco chuckled at the scribbled writings that accompanied each picture. He thumbed through the pages, acknowledging the precision of thought that it must have taken to create each drawing. His pulse quickened as the pages progressed and the artwork became more detailed and more erotic. He shut the book as his imagination began to play with him, and he started picturing himself in each of the poses. His own work was based on keeping his body fully confined and then he added the details as an afterthought, the weaving, or the macramé as Harry called it. But these, some of these, were to accentuate areas of pleasure, exposing body parts to be touched and maybe be used by the one doing the tying. He wanted to say it horrified him, but he knew that was false, his body was telling him differently.

He opened the other book and found himself absorbed in a history he knew so very little about. The Japanese terms Harry had spoken of were there, along with many others. Each position had a name, each type of knot had a name, and then it delved into why people had turned a thing of torture into a thing of enjoyment. The rituals that could accompany the acts intrigued him.

Draco sighed as he read about others, like him, who did it to surrender, to release control and be helpless. A brief bout of insecurity struck him again as he thought of what Harry must think of him, tying himself up, surrendering to a rope alone in his room. Here they showed the partnership, many going into areas that didn't interest him, but still he felt a kinship with them, the nawa jūjun. Most were women, but a few men were pictured. A slow smile built up as Draco turned back to Harry's book and flipped through the pages. They were all of men. Suddenly, Draco saw what Harry had done. He had taken many of the designs and altered them to fit a man's body when necessary. There were original designs and intricate weaves also. He tried to quell the urge to Summon a quill and add his own notations and ideas. He knew he should read the book first. Harry had been adamant about the safety involved. He poured another cup of coffee from the tall ceramic pot and motioned for the window to open. Sonja was back, and carried the bag of pastries in her beak. He indulged in them every Sunday morning. He gave her a few bites and then she carefully soared down the hall.

"Oh, great here comes the crowd," Draco laughed as the raccoon crawled onto his lap. He petted her striped fur and wrapped the long blond hairs around his fingers. "Did you want some, Missy?" he asked as he broke off a piece pastry and let her eat it out of his hand. 

"I would like some," said a voice coming from behind him.

Draco lifted his hand above the chair with the rest of the pastry broken into pieces. "Here you go, Anna, it's your favourite, apricot."

"So what are you reading that has you so entranced?" Anna asked, after swallowing a bite of pastry. She rounded the chair and lay by the fire. Draco held his hand out while she finished the bites. Her long tail swished with delight.

"Harry sent me some books to review. Apparently, I'm pants at tying myself up and could've killed myself."

"And this is now a revelation to you? How many times have we told you that you could've hurt yourself?" another voice said coming from the hallway.

Draco groaned. "I know, Nina, but now I can learn how to do it safely. It has pictures and descriptions."

"By yourself?" asked the wolverine.

"No. Potter insisted I call him if I felt the need. I, in turn, insisted he not try the Animagus spell. We have a pact."

"Good," Nina and Anna said in unison.

"Kelly! Get away from that jacket, now!" Draco yelled.

They all startled to hear Draco raise his voice. The fox cowered away.

"Shit, I'm sorry, love. Come here," Draco said and held out his hand to pet the small red fox. The animal walked over on human hands and feet. "It's just not mine. It's Harry's."

"Oooh, it's Harry's," said another voice coming from the bathroom door as it opened. Draco turned his head and his cheeks were flushed.

"Jane, it's not what you think."

The young, brown-haired girl hopped over, her tail and nose twitching. "I think it's exactly what I think. You've got a crush."

Draco shook his head and groaned. 

***************************

"Game of wizard chess, mate?" Ron asked as he entered the drawing room.

Harry jumped, and dropped the book he was reading while sitting in his favourite old chair. "Shit, you scared me. How long have you been home?"

"'Bout an hour, just needed to shower. One of George's inventions exploded; it was some modification to the swamp potion."

Harry chuckled and sniffed the air. "Might need another one."

Ron tossed a pillow at him as he sat on the couch and then quickly went horizontal. "Can't. Hermione and whoever are now in there. I did a fucking double take. From the back, the bloke looked like Malfoy."

"What? It wasn't, was it? I mean she wouldn't even think about being with Draco, would she?" Harry asked, while picking up the thin book from the floor.

"Draco? Are you on a first name basis with the git, now? Anyway, I was talking about the senior Malfoy."

Harry laughed. "She's not playing with the Polyjuice again, is she?"

Ron groaned and fluffed up the sofa pillow. "No, and it wasn't him or I might have had to hex them both. What are you reading?"

"Nothing much." 

****************************

Draco lay in bed, tossing and turning. His mind was restless. The coven was safe for the night. Missy had almost escaped again, but had been captured at the last moment before sneaking out the small opened window of the laundry room. Stars were visible through his bedroom window. Sirius sparkled brightly.

Sleep usually never evaded him, but tonight something was different and as his hand reached down to his thigh to scratch an itch he knew what it was. He was horny. He laughed aloud and wondered if he could even remember how to wank. Slowly, his fingers slid under his pyjama bottoms' waistband. He let his palm and fingers explore the rise that was begging to be touched. His whole body twitched as his thumb crossed over the crown that had remained hidden for years. He bit his lower lip and circled his fingers around the hardened shaft. The sound that escaped his throat reminded him of his purr. The touch was so new; he wanted it to last, but the desire for completion was too strong. He thrust into his fist over and over, each time moaning as he reached the head. Flashbacks of images and fantasies he had used while wanking in his youth were replaced with new ones: ropes, tugs, gentle touches, words, and then finally being at the mercy of one man who opened him up and exposed him to his own desires. He came silently as his back arched trying to meet his invisible lover. 

******************

Harry lay in bed, reading by the light of the hurricane lamp. He'd now read the book twice. His mind was busy trying to incorporate what he'd read with the pieces of information Draco had given him. Almost half of the contents were exposes on the few known historical Animagi: Falco Aesalon, Cliodna, Morgan le Fey, and Godric Gryffindor. The synopsis being, like the currently known Animagi, each had strong Gryffindorish qualities; the distinction between good or evil wasn't as clear. What also became evident was their determination of thought and the belief in their success.

The final chapters explained how the spell worked by reversing magical polarity. One was either successful or not. If not, then paradoxically, the closer they were to being successful the more animal-like the person would be. Not until the spell was complete did the magic make the switch; only then did the animal become sentient and retain the cognitive facilities of its human counterpart. Harry had visions of Draco being human one moment and a ferocious, out of control leopard the next. Three years spent in an animal form, and then the others being trapped for even longer. 

As interesting as the theory and history were, it was thoughts of Draco that began to occupy his mind. Bits and pieces of their conversation played over and over. He had said that the need to be restrained only came when the spell went awry. _No_ , Harry thought, it began earlier than that. The person he relied on to protect him was gone: his father, and then those that could have helped, he didn't trust: Dumbledore and Snape. His rubbish attempts in trying to kill Albus backfired. Yes, he did get the Vanishing Cabinet working, but even then, things were not in his control. Lucius returned to his home, but Voldemort and Bellatrix became the master and mistress of the Malfoy homestead. Draco was flailing and hurting people, and no one could protect him from doing so. In many cases, he was forced to do so. 

Harry snuffed the flame and pulled up the duvet. 

_The scent was strong. Another male had entered his territory; the mark only a few hours old. The cat sniffed again and then left its own mark. They would cross paths soon. The leopard was not concerned. It was a scent he recognised and they would have a brief brotherly reunion before parting ways again. The big cat's stomach was full, the remains of the half-devoured beast safely hidden in the branches of the jungle tree. The chunks of fur lay at the roots, and already the scavengers were enjoying the provided meal. The black panther exploded into a run as the loud bang echoed through his land, and then he saw the tendrils of smoke. The animals of the jungle awoke and filled the air with a cacophony of warning sounds. The panic started, the forest was burning and the creatures had nowhere to run._

_The panther stopped in mid stride and raised its nose into the air, trying to discern the scent of his brother._

Abruptly, Harry sat up. His heart was pounding; the adrenaline was coursing through his veins. _Fear_ is what he felt, not for himself, but for his brother leopard.

**************************

"Merlin, what type of owl is that?" Dawlish asked, as an oversized owl swooped through the office and landed on Harry's desk. Every Auror in the room gathered around the largest owl they had ever seen.

"It's a Great Grey," Ron said as he entered the Field Aurors area to see what the commotion was.

"But they have yellow eyes, not blue, and it's got to be almost fifty percent bigger than any I've ever seen," Dawlish said in awe.

Harry quickly examined the owl's eyes. They were deep blue and staring right at him. He blinked when the owl winked at him. Harry's attention then moved away from the owl's face to the missive she carried. His heart rate increased by the second. He knew it was a _she,_ and that this was one of the coven witches. The owl spread her wings, the span forcing those getting too close to move away. As the Aurors closed in again, she snapped her beak. "Back off!" Harry commanded, and waited until they had done so before lifting the feathers, which covered her feet. The sight of the smallest human feet he'd ever seen made him want to stare, but he didn't want to attract attention or hurt her pride.

> > _Harry,_

> _This is Sonja. Isn't she beautiful? I promised her she would be the first to meet you and I hope you aren't upset with the surprise encounter. She prefers monetary rewards over Owl Treats. She's saving to buy her own stand. I've offered to give her one, but she's a very proud witch._

> _I think it's time we continue our conversation about the coven and our core beliefs. Godric's witches are anxious to meet you. I would like to reciprocate with another fancy dinner, but I would feel more comfortable talking privately. I'd be honoured to have you over for a home-cooked meal this Friday at seven._

> _Respectfully,_

__

> _Draco_

Harry quickly scribbled a note accepting the offer. He attached the message to her leg, and put a Galleon in her pouch. "There you go, gorgeous," he said and petted her affectionately. She released a _ooo-uh_ sound, making him smile. He watched her silently make her way out of the office, with every Auror turning to view the sight.

"Whose owl was that?" Ron asked, as the others left and went back to their business.

"Malfoy's."

"Guess he found it on his travels. It kind of gave me the creeps."

Harry bapped him on the head. "I'm sure the feeling was mutual."

"Hey, speaking of Malfoy, I saw him this morning at the market in Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, and what were you doing...?"

"He was wearing a jacket just like yours and to top it off, he was sucking on a peppermint stick."

Harry hid the smile. "Guess he's got good taste."

******************************

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

The storefront door opened as Harry reached the threshold of Draco's shop. The overhead bell tinkled as he entered, and the scent of old furniture and rugs permeated the air. It was somehow comforting. Curiosity to see the mirror again was overwhelming. He could feel bits of magic emanating from the larger pieces of furniture, but he could still recognise the purity of the waves calling him from the other room.

He glanced up at the stairwell, knowing Draco knew he was here, but he succumbed to the pull of the mirror's magic and stepped into the side room. The Cheval mirror was vertical and he smiled as he saw the dark panther coming to meet him in the reflection. Harry pressed his palms to the mirror; the panther rose up on his hind legs and matched Harry's hands with his front paws, their noses only inches apart. Harry stared into the beast's eyes; he shivered when the large cat blinked and part of him recognised the beast was sentient. A small creaking sound behind him caught his attention. He saw the door in the mirror was cracked open. He spun around only to hear the sound of a door latching shut as almost imperceptible lines disappeared. The wall was smooth. 

The rich aroma of tomato sauce became stronger as he climbed the wooden stairs. The door opened as he reached the top step. "I'm in the kitchen. Come on back," Draco yelled. Harry removed his cloak; the brass hand next to where his leather jacket hung, grabbed it.

Harry gave a quick look into the parlour before he ventured down the long hallway. The fire was lit and Draco's quilt lay folded on the footstool. The loo door was closed but the next door as he walked down the narrow hallway was open. Harry couldn't help but peek in. The small office contained floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the desk was covered with another stack of books with parchment and quills scattered about. Harry took a few steps in and examined the books on the shelves. He skipped over the ones on household magic and spelling furniture, but his gaze stopped on those that pertained to folk magic and family magic. He wanted desperately to select one and see what it was about. He had never heard of these types of magic. 

"Get out of my study!" Draco yelled from down the hall. Harry laughed and turned around. He froze as he saw the parchment drawings on the desk, and then he saw his journal and the book he'd lent Draco. There were more books adjoining them. His interest was piqued and he examined the drawings in closer detail. He smiled; Draco's creations were artistry compared to his. His fingertips ran over the perfectly drawn bodies and ropes. There was nothing he couldn't duplicate with his ropes, but he couldn't imagine the models he used waiting that long for the patterns to emerge. "Quit being nosy and come taste the sauce," Draco shouted once again from the kitchen. 

"I'm an Auror; it's my job," Harry yelled back. He didn't move. The additional books now had his attention. He bit his lower lip as he read the titles; most he recognised and had read. They included texts on both rope art and the psychology behind those who practised it: the rope artist and those who submitted. The top book, he had never seen before. His fingers ran over the textured cover, the Japanese woman kneeling on the floor naked, with ropes in hand, and with her head facing down. The pads of his fingers rubbed over the raised gold lettering: Nawa Jûjun.

"See anything of interest?" a low voice whispered from the doorway.

Harry turned and grinned as he took in the image of Draco Malfoy wearing a green apron splattered with tomato sauce. "Yeah, a few things. I was admiring your drawings. They're quite good."

Draco advanced towards the desk and stood next to Harry. He bent over slightly. "Is this possible?" he asked as he pointed to an image of a man suspended facing downwards, inches above the floor."

"The weaves or the position?" Harry asked as he leant over to examine the drawing in more detail.

"Both, I mean to do together? I didn't know if the design would compress any nerves while suspended."

Harry turned his head slightly towards Draco. "Do you enjoy being suspended?"

Draco turned to meet Harry's stare. "Yeah, but I usually do it facing up. It gives me the feeling of floating; I know I can do it magically, without ropes, but it's not the same."

Harry found himself faltering under Draco's gaze showing such unabashed interest. "No, it's not the same," Harry replied. "And having someone apply the ropes manually, Draco, is also quite different."

Draco nodded. "I figured it would be," he said softly. "And after reading all of this, I realise my experiences have been lonely."

Harry felt himself being drawn closer to Draco. The space between them was so small; he could feel Draco's breath flow across his cheek. A notion that he wanted to touch him, to kiss him, shocked him. He straightened up and stepped back, knowing if he didn't change the subject, he would do something stupid. "What is folk magic?" he asked and looked over at the books that first caught his interest when he came in the room. 

Draco stood back up straight and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "That, Mr Potter, is what we will be discussing over dinner, and I'm afraid the pasta will be overcooked if I don't return to the kitchen."

"Okay, okay, let me taste the sauce," Harry said as he followed Draco out of the room.

Harry leant over the counter of the island, watching Draco put the final touches of finely grated Parmagiano-Reggiano over the pasta and sauce. "Can you take the salad over to the table?" Draco asked as he lifted up the bowl of penne.

The ambience rivalled any restaurant. The table was covered in linen, with rolled napkins next to white china plates, tall, tapered purple candles, and more fresh sweet peas in a vase. Draco poured the wine and removed his apron before sitting down. Harry felt momentarily ashamed that he hadn't worn his trousers instead of jeans, when he noticed how Draco was dressed in grey flannel trousers and a white shirt opened at the collar. 

"So what did you think of Sonja?" Draco asked as he served up the penne. 

"She's stunning, and caused quite a stir at the office," Harry replied while watching Draco fill his plate. He seemed so at ease and unaware of how odd Harry thought the quaint scene between them was. 

"The Galleon was a bit over the top, but she kept it. She doesn't get out often, so that was a treat for her. She normally only takes messages to my parents and picks up the pastry at the bakery.

Harry bristled at the mention of Draco's parents. Draco had not spoken about them since that first night, and then only briefly. "It's probably not a good idea to send her back to the Ministry, but I would like it if she came to my home."

Draco smiled and pierced the pasta with his fork. "So did you know she was part of the coven before you read the note?"

Harry swallowed before answering; the pasta was perfectly cooked. "I knew the minute I saw her blue eyes and then she winked at me. Her tiny feet confirmed it."

"She's lucky she has all of those tufted feathers to keep them warm. It's hard for some of the other witches in the winter."

The next piece of pasta almost went down the wrong passageway. "Are they all like Sonja, mostly animal?"

Draco shook his head and picked up his glass of wine. "No, they run the spectrum. Kelly has hands and feet; she's a fox. I buy her socks and gloves, but have to charm them as she goes through them so quickly. In the spring and summer Quidditch gloves are best."

"Oh."

Draco laughed. "You'll see them after dinner. I know it all sounds strange, but I think once you meet them, you'll understand why I'm so attached to my sisters."

"Tonight— sisters?"

"Yes, didn't I mention that in the note? They really are anxious. The only other wizards or witches most of them get to see are my parents, and then some of them stay downstairs in protest."

Harry set down his fork and joined Draco in drinking the wine. "In protest of what? And no you didn't tell me I would meet them." Harry saw Draco's face fall and quickly realised his tone had been short. "But, I would love to meet your sisters tonight. I just would've dressed more appropriately."

Draco sniggered. "Don't lie, Potter. You're nervous about meeting them, but as long as you abide by the rules I mentioned last time, you'll be fine."

"Don't tell and don't look disgusted."

Draco nodded. "However, first I promised to tell you a few things about our beliefs. Anna, she's the second oldest and the first who attempted the spell, is from an old wizarding family located up in the Highlands. No one in her family ever went to Hogwarts, though they were invited. She was home schooled, as many of the witches you'll meet tonight were."

Flashbacks of Merope Gaunt came forward in Harry's mind. They were quickly dissipated as Draco continued.

"Many old families do not trust the Ministry and do not trust formal schools. They teach their magical children at home and have spells and potion recipes that have been passed down by word of mouth for centuries. Each family has their own unique twist on most things we were taught. Anyway, Anna's family can date their history back to before Hogwarts even existed."

Harry watched Draco intently as he spoke. The words tumbling from his lips all held interest, but there was something else that intrigued him as he stared at his dinner companion in candlelight; he still wanted to kiss him. He shook his head. "I can understand the Ministry, but why not send them to Hogwarts? I mean, if they're poor, there are funds to use to pay for books and things."

Draco scratched his cheek, and Harry took stock that his nails were still long. "While most believe they don't send their children because of mistrust of the establishment, it's actually the curriculum they object to." 

"What? Why?" Harry asked flabbergasted.

Draco quickly ate a few more bites of the penne and drank some more wine. "They are a gentle people, Harry, and while the families differ in some of their practices, their core beliefs are the same. I've already mentioned to you about why I wouldn't have hexed you, but it's a bit more than that. You see we believe everything is connected, everything has energy and is important, and shouldn't be damaged. None of us would dream of casting a Jelly-Legs Jinx or a Bat-Bogey-Hex. Magic is funnelling energy and since we are all connected, what you send out in the world has an effect. Eventually it will come back to you, and the belief is that it will be three times as strong."

Harry set down his wine. "Are you saying that you can't even think about anything negative or harmful?" His thoughts were spinning with all of the hurtful things Draco Malfoy had done in the past, and yes, in some way, he was most definitely hit hard with horrible things in return.

"Hmmm, well some believe that, but most don't. I don't think we can be condemned for our thoughts, but I do know for me, that if I don't try and control them it has a negative effect and I start to shake, and well you know the rest from there."

"The ropes."

"Yes, the ropes."

"So, I guess I'm a bit confused on how doing a simple jinx can be so bad," Harry said as he moved his almost empty plate of pasta aside for the salad Draco was putting into his bowl.

"It's called the Butterfly Effect; do you know what that is?"

"Something about a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil and then there's a storm in London."

Draco snickered. "Yeah, something like that. You see, if you believe everything is interconnected, but that there is no real organization to it, it's not linear, it's cosmic, it's everything, then one small, intentional hex's energy in Hogwarts can reverberate out and cause a witch or wizard in Istanbul to be killed by the Killing Curse. It's nature's web of life."

Harry shook his head.

Draco sighed. "Okay, let me give you a simple example. I'm not saying this is the way it works, but it'll help you understand what I'm getting at. Say you Bat-Bogey-Hexed me, and I got pissed and took it out on Greg, who then took it out on his mother, who got upset and cast a curse on her neighbour, etc. You see, Harry, everything you do has repercussions."

Harry snorted. "Draco, I understand and I admire that you can follow this, but don't you become paranoid that you will do something wrong and cause the sun to explode? Doesn't it stop you from having fun?"

Draco laughed. "No, while I admit to being harder on myself than most of the others, I don't have that fear because I'm now aware of my actions and what they mean. I mean, do you have that fear that you will hurt someone on purpose?"

"Shit, that's intent, Draco. No, I don't have that fear."

A wry grin broke over Draco's face. "Exactly, Harry, because you're a good wizard, a good man. You do a hex as a joke, not to intentionally humiliate someone. When we were young, I know we both did such things, but not anymore, we've grown up. However, while you don't have the instinct to intentionally hurt someone, I do. These families don't want their children exposed to those types of spells, much less potions that can kill or make someone think they are in love. As to having fun… I still have fun. Our first rule is that as long as you aren't hurting someone, you can do what you want."

Harry filled his glass halfway with more wine and added some to Draco's glass too. "Is there a leader?"

"No, that is another important point. We're all equals. Some of us get treated differently, well, me, because I provide them with their home and sustenance."

"You protect them, Draco."

"Yes, but when it comes to major decisions we all have an equal vote. However, being the only male, they pick on me."

Harry laughed.

Draco couldn't help but join him. "It's true; they're like a bunch of mother hens."

Harry enjoyed seeing Draco laugh. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was joyful, and in all his years at Hogwarts he had never heard it like this before.

"So how do you communicate? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"No, it's fine. You need to know. A few of the witches can talk, and a few can even still do magic, but what we all have in common is the animal part of us, and it is in that realm where we have our serious discussions."

Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, but...."

"I know it's confusing. If you were an Animagus or an animal, you would understand better. You see, we all have an unconscious, but there are two types. The first being the one that is personal to us and is filled with our own life experiences. The other is called the collective unconscious, and that is the one that is used. It is the part of our brains that retains all information gathered before. Things we all recognise without having been taught. Nature works this way; animals work this way. A red trumpet flower attracts the most hummingbirds. A bee has stripes as a warning. A leopard has rosette spots to blend in. Ants leave a scented trail. Nature is communicating around us all of the time. It's just that humans have evolved to such an extent that they don't need to pay attention to it, but it's still there. And if you tap into it you will find there are archetypes that we all recognise and that some of those can be reduced to a symbol."

Harry bit his lower lip. He knew there was something to what Draco was saying, but it wasn't making sense. Draco looked almost defeated because Harry wasn't grasping it, and then his face brightened.

"Potter, you have a sign!" Draco said excitedly.

"What?"

"You have a sign. You're an archetype. All I did the other night was draw one symbol and they knew whom I had been speaking to. I drew a lightning bolt in the dirt."

Harry's eyes widened. 

"But there's more."

Harry shook his head. "No more, Draco. I need to digest what I've already heard."

Draco laughed. "No, this is important. You see, these families practice this; they believe it is their Higher Self that taps into this realm. It communicates with nature and all of the energy running through it. It's where I go when I'm tied up and safe."

"That look," Harry whispered as if talking to himself.

"Yes, your partners are in another plane."

"Not all of them, Draco. I've only seen it a few times."

Draco's lips thinned and he withdrew his wand, clearing the table. He stood up, walked over to the sink, and turned the tap on.

Harry was startled at the change in demeanour. "Did I say something wrong?"

Draco turned his head. "No."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

Harry stood up, walked over to the sink, picked up a towel, and began drying the dishes as Draco washed them. "You know you can use magic for this," he said sarcastically. 

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, I'm aware of that. I do this because I want to."

"So what did I say? And don't say nothing," Harry asked as he shined the silverware.

Draco stared down into the sink. "Do you have a partner? A nawa jûjun?"

Harry set down the cloth and put his hand on Draco's shoulder forcing him to turn. "I have two models available to me. I don't have a nawa jûjun."

"And the difference being?" Draco asked as he raised his eyes to look into Harry's.

Harry caught his breath at the intensity of the grey eyes, almost black with dilation from the low light. "It's _my own version_ of thinking this way, Draco. The models and I are not exclusive with each other. They do try to make themselves available when I find the need. But a nawa jûjun, I consider as someone I'd be more intimate with, we would be exclusive."

The long lashes closed. "Have you ever had a nawa jûjun?"

Harry mouth curled. "No, Draco. I haven't. I came close once, but he wanted more than I could give," Harry responded. His hand began caressing Draco's upper arm before he could stop himself. Draco placed a hand on Harry's waist. The touch made him quiver. Once again, the curiosity of what it would be like to kiss the lips so close to his crossed his mind.

"What did he want?" Draco whispered.

Harry licked his lips. "Pain and sex. He wanted more pain, and I couldn't do it. As to the sex, while I loved him very much, I wasn't attracted to him."

"You don't like inflicting pain?" Draco asked, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"Some, but not as much as many dominant rope players do. I will give what is needed, to a point. While a submissive has a safe word, I too have a line I won't cross."

"And if I wanted more?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Draco, we would discuss it if that time came. But I don't want you to dwell on that, because I can more than likely deliver what you want and need. I don't think you are aware of some of the more extreme things that can happen."

"Okay," Draco said and turned back to the sink, letting go of Harry's waist, his nails dragging across his stomach as he did so. "While I finish this, would you put on some tea? I don't have a formal dessert, I hope biscuits will do. Many in the coven have a sweet tooth."

"Even the carnivores?"

Draco snickered. "They've had their fill earlier tonight. Out of the twelve, only Olivia is a true carnivore, but Kelly and Nina keep her company."

"Twelve of them you said?" Harry asked as he put the water on to boil.

"Yes, a true coven as I'm the thirteenth." 

*************************

Harry was entranced watching the leopard crouch in the tall grass, the small bits of stained glass moving with each flick of the tail. He jumped as the leopard pounced and landed on a small rodent. The tub was empty this time and sparkling clean. Harry washed up, left the loo, and walked into the parlour, while waiting for Draco. The coven of witches, Draco's sisters, would be coming up soon. He looked at the shelves containing the animal figurines, again wondering if they represented the types of animal-like creatures he would be seeing soon. He knew they would be unusual, and Sonja had been beautiful. His thoughts drifted to the Centaurs and he speculated how they came to be. He heard laughing downstairs and loud steps, and then Harry smiled as he heard Draco's voice. "Now don't overwhelm him. He's just a wizard after all. Nothing special."

"Sure, Draco, that's why you've been wearing his jacket."

"Shhh," Draco said as Harry heard him at the top of the stairs. 

"Oh, you didn't cut your nails?"

"I did, and you know they just grow back instantly. Now shush!"

Harry stood by the leather chair he had once fallen asleep in, waiting. 

The door opened.

Draco shook his head as he entered. "Get ready, Harry, they're in rare form tonight."

"Give it up, Brother; we know what form you like."

Draco spun around. "Jane, one word...."

"And you'll what?" came a voice on the stairwell.

Harry couldn't help but snicker.

Draco came and stood by Harry. He held a rectangular glass container in his hands. Harry glanced down briefly but only saw small flowering plants and a small pond of water. His eyes shifted back to the doo; as a menagerie of creatures began to enter. Sonja flew over all of their heads and landed on the windowsill.

"Sonja, you know."

Harry glanced over to the windowsill and nodded, the large owl winked at him. He turned back to the group that was spreading out in the parlour. His mind was racing trying to take in all of the distorted images at once. He remembered what Draco had said; he didn't want to stare. He finally had to close his eyes. Draco grasped Harry's arm and manoeuvred him into the chair. "It's okay to look, Harry," Draco whispered in his ear. "They know they are different, just don't grimace."

"Now, look what you all did; you made him faint," Draco said lightly.

Harry could hear a few giggles, and he opened his eyes; they swept the room. His attention was grabbed by those who were only half transformed. The witch lying in front of the fireplace who had a tail, mane, and hooves for hands and feet, smiled at him. "Harry, I'm Anna."

"Hello, Anna," Harry said. He suddenly felt shy, like when he first talked with Cho Chang so many years ago. "It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Jane," came a voice from the other side of where Draco was now sitting. 

Harry stretched up and saw two bunny ears sticking up, and then she peeked around Draco's legs. Her face was pretty, and her long hair of velvet brown reached her waist. "Would you like to see the rest of me?" she asked.

Draco glared down at her. "Flirt."

"Like he'd be interested in my gender," Jane said.

"Hey, I like witches," Harry said in his defence.

"Well, in that case," Jane teased as she rose up. "How do you feel about rabbits?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh as she stood up and her legs were shaped like a rabbit's. She turned around and shook her tail at him. 

"Jane!" Draco warned.

She put her hand on Draco's head and mussed up his hair. "Just teasing, Brother."

Harry jumped as a large critter scurried over to him and crawled up his legs and onto his lap.

"Harry, this is Missy, the culprit that caused you to come to my store. She likes to wander and bring things back from her adventures."

Harry grinned at the fully formed raccoon that was hiding her eyes behind her paws. Long strands of blonde hair covered her head. "Hello, Missy," Harry said and petted her striped coat.

"This is Kelly, our Irish witch. She was captured while her family was visiting relatives," Anna said, while rubbing her cheek on the pelt of a fox that was lying next to her. Harry had been purposely avoiding the fox, but felt if he didn't address her, he would hurt her feelings. Her red coat of fur was spectacular. He put his hand down next to her nose. She gave a quick affectionate nip.

Kelly raised her front paw, which was a fully formed hand, as Draco had earlier described to Harry, and he shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Kelly."

A loud growl from behind startled him and he twisted around to see which creature had made the noise. An almost complete lynx was pacing back and forth; her brown eyes and nose were human. "Olivia, I presume."

The cat looked surprised and released a sound; Harry could only assume it was one of approval. She padded over to Draco and jumped on his lap. Draco groaned, as the cat settled in, and then he stroked her thick fur. 

"Where's Elizabeth?" Draco asked as he looked around the room. "I thought she followed us up. Is something wrong?"

Jane leaned down and whispered in Draco's ear.

"Well, why didn't somebody tell me? Go look in the supply room; I'm sure we have some in there."

Jane hopped out of the parlour and Harry could hear her going down the hallway. He looked over at Draco. Draco shook his head. "She's menstruating and they ran out of pads down there."

Harry blinked repeatedly. "Oh." He didn't know what else to say; thankfully, Hermione didn't share that part of her life with him.

"It's worse when some of them go into heat. That is also one of the reasons our Missy likes to go out on the prowl. I'm just thankful she hasn't found another of her kind. I'm not sure what the results would be. She's the closest, after Mathilda, to being her true animal form."

Harry looked around the room to see who he hadn't been formally introduced to. He saw there was a young girl sitting on the ledge of the Oriel window. Harry recognised the type; she appeared shy and skittish. Her only animal features were a short tail that shot back and forth, a small set of antlers protruding from her head of red hair, and a black nose. He thought back to the previous week's dinner. Draco had said Shelley was a deer. He now knew she was a reindeer.

The small brown creature with yellow thick stripes on her sides and across her forehead stared at him. The only human thing he saw about her was that she had ears, and the lobes had been pierced. She wore a pair of hoop earrings. This was the first creature that he felt a sense of fear from. Draco saw Harry examining the creature that had distanced herself from the group and laid by the front door. "That's Nina, she's a wolverine. Your reaction is a proper one. She's a wonderful witch, but the wolverine's instincts run deep. Our sweet deer is Shelley, and if you are looking for Mathilda, she's in here," Draco said pointing to the glass box, which had been placed on the table between them.

Harry leant over and peeked into the container. It was a replica of many of the fanciful gardens he saw about town, but this one had a small pond. He looked closer and a moving flower caught his attention. He inspected the scene even closer and saw the small creature he had only ever viewed in Potions, and then, it was dead. "You found me," the perfectly shaped newt squeaked.

"Shit! Damn it!" Harry screamed as he jumped back. "Oh God, I'm sorry!" he gasped as he glared over at Draco, who was doubled over in laughter along with all of the witches. Some were making sounds that could be construed as laughter. "Why didn't you warn me?"

Draco squeezed his cheeks trying to recover. "It was my idea," the petite voice said. "I hope you aren't mad at me."

Harry leant back over. "No, I'm not mad. Just surprised. Whew! You really threw me." 

The little newt giggled. "You can pick me up, if you like."

Harry put his hand into the terrarium and Mathilda climbed up into his palm. "Hello, Harry Potter, it's wonderful to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Harry murmured as he brought the newt closer to his face to speak with her.

"So that makes nine of us that you've met," Jane said as she hopped back in the room. "Elizabeth might be up later; she's got cramps and is not holding down her dinner very well."

"Would she like a potion?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I think that would be best. She's really disappointed, but I think a good night's sleep is what she needs."

Draco lifted his wand and Summoned a potion. A vial of pink liquid soon floated in. "Jane, tell her Harry will make a special visit to see her soon."

"Yes, I will," Harry added quickly.

"Can I wait until Harry meets Louisa and Phoebe?"

Draco nodded. "Harry, Louisa and Phoebe are twin sisters. They are in the most delicate situation of all the witches. They are Large Blue butterflies, and while it may be tempting if they land on you, please don't touch their wings."

"Okay," Harry said and looked about the room. His hand clasped tighter to the raccoon fur he was holding onto. He had no idea what to expect. "Oh Merlin," he whispered as two normal sized butterflies flew down from the drawn lace panels framing the bay window. They landed on Draco's arm which he had held out. Harry took a deep breath as he saw the miniature human bodies with spectacular blue and black wings attached. They each sported a set of antennae. Harry immediately thought of faeries, but these were different, very different.

"And before you jump out of your skin again, Potter, Phoebe talks. Louisa has a butterfly tongue," Draco said softly as he brought his forearm closer to his face. The butterflies flapped their wings. And then Harry heard a small high pitched sound. Draco nodded. "Yes, there are fresh ones on the kitchen table." The two butterflies launched off Draco's arm and circled around Harry's head before leaving the parlour. "They're still hungry," Draco said explaining their quick departure. "I picked fresh sweet peas for them from my mother's garden earlier today. Olivia, love, you are getting a bit too heavy," Draco said as he carefully helped the lynx down and gave her a final pat on her head. She padded over to where Harry sat and curled up at his feet. "Jane, I'll take Elizabeth her potion and reassure her. Now, all of you behave. There's biscuits and tea in the kitchen."

Harry's stomach flipped at the thought of Draco leaving him alone with all the creatures. He wanted to call out as Nina moved away from the door so Draco could leave the room, but he didn't. 

"Don't worry, Harry, we won't bite. Well, Olivia might, but only when she's really hungry, and Draco made sure she was well fed," Anna said as she stretched out by the fire. "You do know he has dedicated his life to making sure we're cared for, don't you?"

"I thought I understood, but now I really do," Harry replied. "May I ask what he was like as a leopard and who took care of you then?"

"Narcissa and the house-elves," a small timid voice said from the Oriel window. Harry looked over at Shelley. She gave him a small smile and then blushed.

"You know I don't bite either," Harry said. "You're welcome to come over here, all of you."

Slowly, they all advanced and made a circle around Harry. "Can you set me back in my box now? I'm getting a bit dry with the heat," Mathilda said. Harry carefully lowered his hand into the container and she scampered off.

"Well, the first year Draco took care of us as best he could. He was younger then and still suffered from the trauma of the war. He was in a severe depression for quite a while. Then there was the incident with Mr Malfoy. The house-elves and Narcissa also helped out," Jane said, sitting in Draco's seat. Harry grinned seeing how natural she was about her long rabbit legs, which she had crossed like most witches.

"But when Draco became a leopard it was the worst day for all of us," Anna added. "He was terrified and we were too. Mr Malfoy had to restrain him and cage him for weeks on end. Narcissa stepped in and took us on as her project. Mr Malfoy was not happy, but wasn't about to go against his wife, again. We all knew he was disappointed. He'd hoped his family would rejoin the magical community and gain some semblance of normalcy."

"Phht, Anna, come on! He threw us out twice. He threw Draco out," Jane said with disgust.

"What? Why?" Harry asked flabbergasted. He was surprised to see a cup of tea come his way. He turned to see who had a wand. No one did that he could see. He took the cup and the warm sweet liquid soothed him.

"Phoebe did that. Draco made her a wand," Anna said. "Jane, it's not polite to talk about Mr Malfoy that way, he did after all give us shelter all of those years."

Harry caught Jane rolling her eyes. He wanted to join her as he had his own misgivings about Lucius Malfoy.

"It took a while for Draco as a leopard to come around," the wolverine said. Harry shook his head, having not realized Nina could speak. "Olivia and I were the only ones who could approach him, as we are predators too. It was a vicious fight, we all bit and scratched each other, but in the end, we wore him down and began to get through to him. It helped that Narcissa let us out in her gardens so he could experience nature and start to feel comfortable with the way we communicate."

"And then sometime during the third year, he became depressed again," Jane added as she sipped her tea. The plate of biscuits came by and she grabbed a few and fed Anna from her hand. Harry took a couple and fed Missy and handed one to Kelly. "When he did the full transformation, it was spectacular. He bounded across the property, pouncing and purring. We didn't know what it was all about until he returned to the drawing room, stood in front of the mirror, and transformed into his human form. We had hope."

"And now?" Harry asked with trepidation.

The room became silent. 

"And now we don't know what to do. Missy progressed some, but the rest of us have remained the same," Shelley replied as she moved even closer to Harry.

"Phoebe and Louisa are dying," Nina said bluntly. "Butterflies usually only live for a year. We need help, and we think you are the one to help us."

The teacup shattered as it hit the rug and then bounced onto the wooden floor. The witches all looked horrified. Harry withdrew his wand and banished the shards of porcelain. He could hear their collective relief. Broken glass, he could see would be a problem for many of them who wore no shoes. But Nina's statement had stunned him.

"Why? I mean, why would you think I could help?"

The crackling of the fire was the only sound to be heard in the parlour. Harry looked at each of their faces, not even fazed by the strangeness; all he saw was the look of hope and need in all of their eyes. His heart began to pound.

"We've all dreamt of you," a small, high voice said emanating from the terrarium.

Harry bit his lip and swallowed hard. He could feel the tension building, his pulse increasing. 

"Draco can't help us anymore. He's a Slytherin, and his way doesn't work for us. We know that now, but...but he doesn't. He doesn't know about Louisa and Phoebe. We haven't the heart to tell him," Anna said with tears beginning to trail down her cheek. Kelly reached up and wiped them away.

"He dreamt of you too, but he thinks you can help him to help us. But you are the Gryffindor, Harry, you might be able to lead us out of this ni— situation," Jane said. Harry could see her blinking tears away. "He's going to be furious that we've told you, Harry. But we had to, he's trying so hard, and it's taking a toll on him physically."

"We do want to thank you for stopping him from restraining himself. He scares the shit out of us every time he does it," Nina stated.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I was scared for him when I saw the marks. I— I just can't think right now. I'm not sure what I can do, but I promise I'll work on this. I've promised Draco not to try the spell, but I don't see...."

"No!" Anna yelled. "We would all rather live and die like this than have you do the spell, Harry. Never— never do the spell."

The door to the flat opened. They all turned to face Draco as he entered.

"Oh shit, what happened?" Draco asked as he scanned the room trying to read the expressions on everyone's faces, especially Harry's.

"Nothing, Brother, dear, but we should be getting Louisa and Phoebe downstairs. I'm sure they're pissed right now on nectar," Jane said as she stood up and stretched. It was the first time Harry took notice of how some of them were wearing clothing and how the pieces had been modified.

"You're leaving?" Harry asked as the others began to stir and head for the door. "I hope...."

"Yes, we just think you probably have a lot to think about. We know we're an unusual group. It's been an honour meeting you, Harry, and we hope we see more of you," Anna said as she scooted Kelly along with her hoof.

"It was an honour meeting all of you, too," Harry replied, still stunned by what they had told him before Draco had entered, and now, that they were leaving so abruptly.

Shelley took the terrarium and she bent down and whispered in Harry's ear. For a moment, he was nervous her small antlers would strike him, but he didn't flinch. "You be good to him. He's a good man and a good wizard."

"I will," he whispered back.

"Well, what happened? I've never seen them all leave so quickly," Draco inquired after the door had been shut.

Harry stood up. "Draco, I'm sorry, but I have to go. They were all wonderful and I know why you're so attached, but I've got to go."

Draco stepped over to Harry. "What is it?"

Harry turned to the fire that was now just embers. "I— I— fuck, I don't know if I can tell you."

"Damn it, Potter!" Draco yelled and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "Tell me!"

"Phoebe and Louisa are dying," Harry whispered.

Draco's face fell. His eyes closed and Harry could see him swallowing trying to force back the emotions he was feeling. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah, Draco, there's something else, but I need you to look at me."

Slowly, Draco lifted his eyelids. "What?"

"They've asked me to help them."

Draco's eyes widened. "Oh, shit, Harry, I'm sorry. Is that why you need to go?"

"Yeah," Harry responded and lifted his hands, they were shaking.

Draco removed his hands from Harry's shoulders. "Don't. Please don't go."

Harry huffed. "I— I have to Draco."

Draco shook his head. "No, you stay right here for five minutes. Can you give me five minutes, Harry? I promise you, I will never ask you to stay again, but please, just give me five minutes."

Harry stared into the grey eyes that were pleading with him. Draco knew his weak spot already. He couldn't deny a request like that as much as he needed to leave, to rid himself of the feelings of helplessness that were pouring into him. "Okay," he whispered.

Draco drew a deep breath. "Okay, then, five minutes."

Harry dug his hands in his jeans pockets, the fingers of his right hand rubbing over a coin. He knew that Friday night was a terrible time to call Jess, but he also knew he would appear. He looked into the mirror over the mantel, and remembered mirrors that had tempted him before. The reflection of the shelves across the room caught his eye. Yes, the animals on them represented the witches and Draco, but in ceramic form. They were the forms each of the witches had tried to turn into. "Fuck," he said aloud just thinking about their nightmare of a situation. They were all so lovely, and they needed him. The adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"Harry, please come back here," Draco called, his voice drifting from down the hallway.

Harry strode down the darkened hall. The loo door and study door were shut; the last door on the left was cracked open. He could see soft candlelight emanating from the space. He grasped the glass doorknob in his hand and pushed open the tall arched door. His heart stilled, his breath ceased, his world spun. There before him on the floor, with ropes of varying lengths stretched out in front of him, was Draco, naked, kneeling, his bum resting on his calves, his legs spread, his palms turned up, resting on his thighs, and his head lowered: the position of a nawa jûjun.

"Nawatsuya," Draco whispered.

Harry fell to his knees behind Draco, without a second thought. He wrapped his arms around him, securing his arms and holding him tight against his chest. "Are you sure? Do you know what you just asked?"

Draco nodded. "I asked you to tie me up tonight," Draco whispered back. "If I don't please you, I'll understand."

Harry was sure Draco could feel his heart pounding through his chest. "You please me very well, Draco, but my concern is that you don't have the need to do this right now."

"It's a partnership. That's what you said, that is what I read, and that is what I want. But if you need another, you may go."

Harry's mouth curled up; the first degree of the attack subsided. "Draco, you must've also read that you don't tell me when I can go. I would be honoured to do this with you, but I must have control. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Draco whispered. "I'm sorry."

The scent of Draco's hair filled his nose. His skin was soft to the touch, but the muscles below felt strong. "It's okay. It'll take time to learn. Have you picked a safe word?"

"Gryffindor."

Harry snickered. "Okay, but you must also tell me if you have any numbness in your hands or feet. Understand?"

Draco nodded.

"And you must feel free to ask for something more. I think for our first time, we should start out simple until I get to know your body." Harry closed his eyes. He had said these same words to every m-o the first time, but this time he felt something different.

"I look forward to your doing so."

Harry squeezed Draco tighter in his grasp. He knew exactly why it was different. He _was_ looking forward to exploring Draco's body. The knowledge both frightened and excited him. Lessening his grip, he lowered his hands to Draco's taut abdomen and spread his fingers. He closed his eyes as he let his fingertips explore each nuance of Draco's torso. He could feel each rib and the lithe muscles around his abdomen. "Don't move," Harry said as Draco began to squirm, he knew that Draco's nerves were firing, and the softness of the touch felt like a tickle. Draco's body froze. Harry continued with his manipulations, reaching the chest muscles, and his thumb ran surreptitiously over the small pert nipples. A hard swallow was Draco's only response. Harry proceeded to his upper arms and then ran his hands down the spread thighs, weighing what he felt about Draco's structure with the ropes he saw available and the positions he knew by heart. He lifted his hands and distanced the space between him and Draco. "Very good. Now stay still while I inspect the ropes. I'm going to do a simple diamond weave, a karada, over your torso. You will have to stand, but not until I say so. Then I will bind your wrists, arms, and legs. Whether I go any further will be determined by your response. Understand?"

"Yes."

Harry put his hands on Draco's shoulders, grasping them hard. Draco flinched. "So you are consenting to having me use your body for my own pleasure?"

"Yes," Draco groaned.

"Draco," Harry whispered in his ear. "You need to say it."

A smile played on Harry's face as he heard Draco's breath hitch; there was a hesitation. "I consent. My body is yours to use," Draco finally said, without defiance. Harry released his strong hold and his own tension dropped significantly.

Harry stood and stepped towards the many lengths of rope laid out. His eyes, having adjusted to the candlelight provided by the candelabras placed in each corner, could now view the selection. "Nylon, three-eighths," he mumbled as he bent down and fingered the longest strand, which was doubled over as it stretched across the length of the room. "The red is a nice touch." Harry stopped and turned towards Draco. "I'd imagine you'd look like one of my peppermint sticks." He suppressed the chuckle as he saw Draco wince. A part of him warmed at the thought of Draco wearing his jacket and eating his candy. Yes, Draco's need for security was evident in more ways than one. "Cotton, one-quarter… interesting, no hemp. You don't like it?"

"It doesn't work well with the spell. The ropes slide over my body and it burns more than I like," Draco responded, his head still down.

Harry continued his appraisal. "It might be different with me doing it. I treat the hemp myself."

"I leave that decision to you."

Harry spun around. "Oh, very good, Draco. Very good." 

Draco grinned. Harry picked up various red ropes of differing lengths and set them down in front of Draco. He eyed the open trunk, withdrew his wand, wound the other ropes up magically, and directed them into the trunk. He held out his hand to Draco. "Stand."

Draco grasped Harry's hand and rose. After being in the same position for so long, he shook each leg to relax his muscles. Harry bent down, selected the longest rope, and placed the centre around the back of Draco's neck, leaving two long strands hanging down his front and trailing onto the floor. It was the first time since he entered the room that they had looked into each other's eyes. Harry could tell when a model was sizing him up, seeing if he had the determination and skill to follow through. In Draco's eyes, he saw the excitement and anticipation of what was to come. Draco wasn't questioning his role. His focus returned to his work. He grasped the two strands, evened them out, and brought them together to make the first knot. The next four came in quick succession; the five were evenly spaced down Draco's sternum and abdomen. 

"Spread you legs a bit," Harry directed. Knowing this was Draco's first time, he wasn't disappointed that he hadn't already done so. The first separation of the rope occurred. For a witch it wasn't necessary, he would strategically place the one knot as it went between her legs. For many of his models he wouldn't have bothered, and just run the separated strands on each side of their genitals. However, this time he made symmetric knots and placed them on each side of Draco's testicles. He forced his hands away after doing so. He saw Draco's penis twitch; he looked up to see Draco's face. "Liked that, did you?" he teased. Draco's left brow arched. Harry gave a short chuckle. He wasn't about to tell Draco that his fingers wanted to stay there and play. He knew that this was dangerous territory; his anxiety was being replaced, bit by bit, by desire. He would never make a move without discussing it first, but it didn't hurt to test the water's verbally. "If we were doing this for sexual pleasure I could add a loop with a smaller rope around your balls. I'd attach it to the rope collar, and whenever you arched back, it would tighten." Harry bit his lower lip as he saw Draco's prick begin to rise. "It's called predicament bondage."

Harry stepped around Draco quickly and squinted for a moment at the sight. The gentle rise of Draco's bum and the roundness of his cheeks mesmerized him. Before he could make any rational decision, he bent down, reached for the rope, and brought it between Draco's legs. Harry tied a quick knot, knowing that it would hit his anus when the rope was pulled up along his back and then through the strand behind Draco's neck. It was the first squirm Draco had given since the beginning.

"I don't remember that from your drawings," Draco said softly.

Harry separated the ropes. "Hold these," he said and placed one strand in each of Draco's hands. He stepped back around to Draco's front side to find him fully erect. It was going to be interesting to work around it without touching him while he finished the karada. He took the strands from Draco's hands and looped each one through the vertical ropes between the first two knots, then pulled them apart, making the first small diamond on the front. "Maybe you weren't paying close enough attention. It was definitely there on the third to last drawing." 

"My apologies."

"I can see there are no objections," Harry teased. Even in the soft candlelight, he saw the rise in colour, and then told Draco to turn around. He hooked each strand through the back centreline, making a large diamond. He placed his hands on Draco's waist indicating for him to turn again. The strands were hooked through the second opening between the second and third knots. Draco's chest was now nicely framed. With three more rotations of threading the ropes on Draco's backside, and making diamonds on the front, he brought the strands over Draco's hips and secured the karada with a final knot below his navel. The rope was the perfect length, and four perfect diamonds were down Draco's front.

"Would you like to see it?" Harry asked as he stepped back, admiring his work. The memory of the eyes of different shapes and colours pleading for him to help was almost erased. 

"Yes," Draco replied as he looked down at his body.

Harry waved his wand to the wall behind Draco next to the door. _"Speculum,"_ he said as he cast a spell. The wall became a mirror. Harry smiled as Draco looked at himself from the front and back as he turned from side to side. He guessed it was the first time Draco had seen himself like this. "I know it's basic, but we will work on that some other time."

"I like it," Draco said; with his fingers stroking each segment of the rope he could reach, and then lingering on the knots. His erection he ignored. 

"The binding comes next," Harry mentioned. "But this, Draco," Harry said as he came up behind him and moved the rope strand running down Draco's back, further to the right, off his spine. Draco shifted as the knots moved with the adjustment. "This, you can wear under your robes during the day with no damage."

Draco spun around. "I can?"

Harry nodded, enjoying the look of surprise on Draco's face. "Yes, but it wouldn't do anything for you if a panic attack came on."

Draco turned back to face the mirror. "But it would still feel safe."

"I can teach you to do it yourself. Of course some of the knots are optional."

Draco glared at him in the mirror. Harry winked back. "My enjoyment, remember?" Harry left Draco staring at his reflection and retrieved a shorter rope. "Put your wrists behind your back." This is where Harry noticed Draco's drawings became fanciful, but he chose to do a more basic macramé cuff, wrapping the wrists three times and ending with a square knot on each side. He pulled them and cinched the coils. His mind was paying attention to the colour in Draco's fingers, ensuring there wasn't any constriction, when he heard the first guttural sound come from Draco. He glanced over to the mirror and could see Draco's head tilted to the side, his eyes closed. 

With another long stretch of rope folded in two, he wrapped it three times below Draco's chest and over his arms, pulling tight with each one. Draco groaned. Harry recognised the sound from his previous models; it was a combination of both pain and pleasure. A quick diagonal up the back and three more wraps with the two strands over the top of Draco's chest and biceps finished the bind. It ended with a long piece running down his back. Draco quit making the sounds. Harry knew instinctively that Draco was starting to fly; he was beginning to enter his place of comfort. The erection was still there, but for Draco, it was no longer of importance. He added two cinch ropes between Draco's arms and body, insuring there was no possible movement. Just the legs were left.

Harry picked up the next rope, longer than it needed to be; he had a feeling that Draco wouldn't be done until they went farther than what they originally planned. This was familiar to Harry, his model being silent and compliant. This was when he finally dealt with his daemons. His mind opened and he replayed the scenario that caused the anxiousness, caused the pit of his stomach to turn and quiver, and that made him need control. The actions with his hands were now automatic; the bindings below the kneecaps were complete. The smaller rope he used to secure Draco's ankles. The witches had asked for his help. They didn't believe Draco could help them; Louisa and Phoebe were dying. How could he help them? And then it hit him. They had intentionally not told Draco; they had kept two very important things from him. He would be devastated when he realised his sisters had betrayed him, even if they did it out of love. Right now Draco had been more worried about him, but Harry knew Draco would analyse the situation later. He watched Draco's balance as he finished, ready to catch him if he fell.

"Draco," Harry whispered in his ear, "open your eyes."

Slowly, the long lashed eyelids rose. Harry saw the dazed expression. He would have to tell him, but he hoped that being already bound would ease the pain. Harry would do more to ensure Draco came out of this situation emotionally undamaged. "I'm going to levitate you over to the bed. We need to do more."

Draco nodded. Harry smirked to himself. Draco would soon learn that Harry was just telling him what he was going to do, and not asking for his approval to do so. Using his wand, Harry directed Draco's body over to the bed and laid him down on his stomach. The grey eyes fluttered open as the softness and warmth of the covers caressed his skin. He knew better than to try to draw a big breath. "Harry?" he asked sounding confused.

Harry smiled at him as he stood by the side of the bed, his hand grasping the extra rope between Draco's knees. "Shhh, I'll be done in a minute." He brought the rope up through the loops around Draco's ankles. He pulled it tightly as he climbed onto the bed and secured it to the extra rope between Draco's shoulders. Draco's back arched as his legs were stretched behind him; he was fully bound and movement restricted.

"Yes," Draco hissed. 

Harry carefully turned him on his side. Anyone else would have thought Draco had been taking an illegal potion with the glazed look in his eyes. Harry hated to disturb the experience.

"Draco, we need to talk."

Draco's eyes widened. Suddenly, his demeanour sobered. "Did I do something wrong?"

Harry lay down next to him on his side. He reached out and stroked the skin on Draco's upper arm squeezed between the binding ropes. "No, you did great. Your body makes a perfect canvas." Draco smiled and Harry saw the relief. It would be short lived. 

"Then what is it? Didn't your attack diminish? Do you need to do something else? Do you need someone else?"

Harry shook his head and put his fingers on Draco's lips. He blinked, realising what his hands were doing of their own volition. "No, Draco. It's something I thought of that is going to upset you. I know it will hit you later, but I thought since you're in a safe place, I should tell you."

Draco's eyes widened. "What is it? I'm used to living with Gryffindors; just tell me."

Harry ginned and nodded. His hand moved back to Draco's arm and then over to his side. "The coven kept those two secrets from you. They didn't tell you that the butterfly witches are dying, and they didn't tell you that they don't think you can help them progress any further."

Harry's heart broke when Draco comprehended the truth of what he'd said. He looked crestfallen.

"But, why?" Draco cried out in a whisper. "I love them, we're family. Why wouldn't they tell me? I feel like I failed them."

Giving long caresses over the side of Draco's body was the only comfort he could give, besides telling him why he thought they kept it from him.

"I think they love you too much."

Draco grimaced.

"I once knew an old man who loved me too much and kept things hidden. Things he shouldn't have, but did. He wanted me to be happy."

Grey eyes narrowed. "Dumbledore," Draco said, his eyes misting.

"Yes, and I truly believe it's the same."

Draco chewed on his lower lip and tried shifting his body; only his hips could inch forward and back. He gave a small grin. Harry returned the expression, knowing the knots were playing games with Draco's body at an inopportune time.

"Did you feel betrayed?" Draco asked.

"Yes, and it took me a long time to understand why he did it. I know now how deep those feelings must have run. I couldn't help but still love him. Do you feel betrayed?"

Draco nodded.

"I'm sorry."

Draco snorted. "Don't be, because I probably would've asked for your help anyway. We all had dreams of you, Harry. Dreams that you would help. I just didn't want to have to ask, nor burden you with my problems. When you walked into my store, though, I knew I would have to eventually ask. I'm tired; it's wearing me down. It hurts."

Harry stopped touching Draco. "The bindings?"

"No, you git, my heart. I'm sure if I weren’t bound I'd be washing and waxing the floors."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Draco, you are in a very precarious physical situation right now. I wouldn't call me a git."

Draco's body shivered. He lowered his head, looking down. "I'm sorry."

Harry placed his hand under Draco's chin and raised it. "It's okay, this time, but while you're with me and in ropes, you are mine, and I will be in control. If you need to be reminded of that, I can do that," Harry said, and then moved his hand to Draco's back and tugged the centreline.

"Understood," Draco groaned loudly, and moved his hips, trying to find relief. His cock, which had waned during their conversation, hardened again. Draco closed his eyes, grimaced, and groaned again when Harry jerked the ropes. His eyes opened. The fervour in them astonished Harry and caused a shot of desire to course through him. 

"Feel good?" 

"Yes," Draco whispered through clinched teeth.

Harry scooted closer; the sudden change in atmosphere caught him off guard. "Tell me," Harry said as he did it again. "Tell me what you feel, what you want."

"Can't," Draco groaned. 

"Why?" Harry demanded, guiltily enjoying Draco's response.

"Because you said you wouldn't have sex with your models," Draco spat out.

Harry edged closer until Draco's prick struck his jeans. Draco moaned. "Is that what you want to be? My model?"

"No," Draco said, his voice strained as he refrained from moving his hips again. "I want to be your nawa jûjun."

"Really?" Harry replied without emotion. Inside, his defences shattered. "And you would be at my call? You would let me do those things in the drawings?"

Draco couldn't stop himself, he pushed forward again. He groaned as the head of his dick slid over Harry's jeans. His hands wanted to reach out; he began to fight the restraints. "Yes, but I have a say in what happens, too. That I know."

"What do you want, Draco?" Harry asked and flexed his hips forward, giving more for Draco to rub against. His lower body was now flush with Draco's. 

"No other models."

Harry's mind was racing. Previous models had asked, but he always denied them for one reason or another. But with Draco struggling to rub against him, he couldn't think of anything but making Draco his. "I'll think about it," Harry replied.

"I understand," Draco said. Harry almost laughed at how Gryffindorish Draco was behaving by wearing his heart on his sleeve, the disappointment apparent in his tone.

"I need to know one thing before I make my decision."

"What?"

"I need to know if you kiss well."

Draco laughed and didn't even attempt to hide his defiance. "Fuck, Potter, you're just going to have to try it and see." 

Harry's eyes blazed. No one had crossed the line of his authority like that for years, whether bound or not. His hand reached behind Draco, pulling the centreline tight. Draco screamed and Harry caught it in his mouth. His tongue forced Draco's aside and he assaulted his mouth. He released his grip on the rope and stroked Draco's bum that he had so wanted to touch earlier. He grabbed a cheek, knowing he would leave fingerprints. Draco's hips jerked forward and Harry met the movement in kind, but with force. 

Harry's tongue searched out every part of Draco's mouth. When he felt the curl of Draco's tongue around his, he bit down and began to suck on it. A growl emerged from Draco's throat, encouraging Harry on. He continued, meeting Draco's feeble attempts to thrust with this own vigorous ones. His hand left Draco's arse and squeezed between their bodies. He wrapped his fingers around Draco's wanting dick. Draco pulled his face away from Harry's and began panting. Harry hardened the strokes, adding rough twists.

Draco's body froze. He threw his head back and clenched his jaw. One word came out of his mouth, as he climaxed into Harry's hand and across his own rope covered body. 

"Gryffindor."

**********************  
tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

Harry lay in bed between the warm sheets, his body wrapped around Draco's, his fingers tracing the indented marks that would soon disappear. Draco was sleeping soundly. Harry knew he had crossed the line: a relationship should never be renegotiated while one partner is bound. He knew he should feel guiltier, but he didn't. He was so impressed that Draco had done so well for his first time…until that moment when Draco back talked him. He should have been prepared to hear Draco's defiance, Draco's fire. What he felt between them was powerful, and it would have to be explored, but not while Draco was bound. 

Harry thought over what they had talked about after— after the ropes had been removed. They had discussed the witches and decided they would work together to figure out how to advance them forward in the spell. Harry smiled, remembering the soft, warm kisses that led to Draco giving him a hand job. Then afterwards, Draco lightly scratching his back with his long nails; it had been heaven. 

Draco's hair seemed to glow as the moon shone briefly through the window, before clouds blocked its light. Harry hated to do it, but he had to leave. He had a Saturday shift, and he needed to sleep. His dick was hard just lying next to Draco; he knew he wouldn't be in dreamland anytime soon. He kissed Draco on his temple and slid from under the covers. He gathered his clothes, and dressed in the hallway. An idea crossed his thoughts and he went into Draco's study. He searched through his journal and found the binding that had always dominated his fantasies: _Kômon Sarashi Shibari_. He knew if it ever happened, it wouldn't be for a while. Draco was a virgin and their first time would not be while he was tied. Harry picked up a quill and dipped it into a pot of ink. 

> _My Nawa Jūjun,_

> _Your submission and body pleased me immensely._

> _This is my fantasy, but not until the time is right._

> He put his cloak on and reached for his leather jacket. Just before the brass hand released its grip, Harry released his; the jacket would stay. He reached into his cloak pocket and withdrew six peppermint sticks; he put them in the leather coat pocket. He felt something sharp and pulled it out, and discovered his sunglasses had been broken. He put the pieces in his cloak pocket. He left the flat, walked down the stairs, and immediately felt the mirror calling him. He ignored it, stepped out the front door into the cold mist, and Disapparated.

****************************** 

“What are you doing up so early? I thought you would’ve had a bit of a lie-in after getting home in the wee hours of the morning,” Hermione inquired as she poured a cup of coffee. She grabbed another cup and poured Harry some too.

“I’m filling in for Savage today,” Harry replied as he collapsed onto the kitchen chair. “Ron home?”

Hermione handed Harry his cup and sat down. “No, his newest lives in Hogsmeade. So where were you last night?” Hermione rubbed Harry’s calf with her fuzzy slipper. “By the way, Ginny will be here tonight. Do you want me to keep Ron busy? I was thinking of visiting my parents.”

Harry stirred sugar and cream into his coffee. A jolt coursed through him and he shivered. The knowledge that Ginny would expect to have sex rubbed him the wrong way. The reason made him tremble again; the encounter with Draco ran deeper than he had admitted to himself when he crawled out of Draco’s bed at three in the morning.

“Try wearing a dressing gown, instead of just your pyjama bottoms, and you wouldn’t get cold.”

Harry sneered at her. “No you don’t have to keep Ron busy. Why don’t you both stay? That is if Ron's available? It would be fun for the four of us to hang out at home.”

Hermione laughed. “Give it up, Harry. You aren’t being sly. You’ve got something going on that’s serious and you don’t want to be alone with Ginny. So, are you going to tell me who it is?”

“Can’t you just play stupid for once?” Harry teased. “And no, I’m not going to tell you who it is right now.”

Hermione rose and tapped him on the head. “Want some breakfast before you go? I’ll cook while you shower.”

Harry pushed back his chair and picked up his coffee. He stepped over to Hermione as she pulled the pans out of the cupboard. He leant down and kissed her on the head. “It’s a shame we never tried to make it work.”

“Oh God, Potter! Go take your shower,” she ordered and pushed him away.

***************************

“Shit,” Draco groaned as he saw the time. He stretched and yawned as he rolled over to the empty side of the bed. He knew Harry had had to leave early, but he’d hoped he would’ve woken him to say goodbye. He groaned again, at how stupid he was to be disappointed. Harry’s scent, on the pillow, though, brought back memories of the previous night. And those belonged in the fantasy category. He lay there breathing in not only the aroma of Harry, but of sex. It was a novel scent, and it was thrilling.

Draco knew Harry was worried that he had crossed a line last night. Even with the reassurance that Draco tried to give him that he was okay, and that what had transpired was perfect, Harry still had a look of guilt about him. Draco laughed, knowing that not only did Potter bring out long forgotten emotions in him, but that he inspired the same in Harry. 

He caressed his upper arms where the only remaining marks remained, and soon they, too, would be gone. Someone wanted to keep him secure, to help him from acting out and hurting others. It wasn’t that he was a child, but he recognized that the boundaries he was raised with were questionable at best, and the lack of protection affected him deeply. Maybe someday the need would go away, but deep down, he knew there was more to it than just keeping himself safe and reaching that higher plane. He chuckled as his cock became hard. Yes, in the future, he could see not needing it, but he would probably always want it.

As well as others tried to explain in their writings about the experience of being bound in the books, they barely touched upon the true feelings of security and contentment Draco felt. And having someone like Harry, who wanted to do it, and with the care he did it, was ecstasy. The only disappointment had been that Harry had never verbally answered his request. He tried to push down the insecure thought and began thinking about the workday ahead. 

He showered quickly and only had moments before the shop needed to open. He knew the witches would want a full report and that they were more than likely frightened that they had hurt him with their secrets. He snickered as he walked down the hall with his coffee and buttered bread; he would now be keeping some things secret from them. The opened study door caught his attention. He peeked in, knowing he had closed it last night. A sheet of parchment had been moved forward on the desk. His knees faltered, and the coffee and bread were set down on the desk. 

“My nawa jūjun,” Draco whispered aloud and crumpled to the floor.

*******************

Harry tapped the quill against his thigh as he sat back in his chair with his feet resting on his desk. The office was once again filled with the silence that only happened on the weekends. The stacks of folders on his desk were from those who'd been proclaimed dead after the war. It was dismal reviewing the pain of the past. He sipped his tepid coffee, thinking about all that had transpired in the previous week. The case that instigated it all would remain unsolved. The last thing he wanted to do was have the Ministry getting involved. The coven wasn't hurting anyone and if he and Draco were successful, they would be returning the witches to their homes without interference. He could ask them for their full names, but somehow he felt that was too private right now for them to divulge. In addition, he wanted to read the reports, and it gave him something to do while he avoided thinking about seeing Ginny later that night. They certainly weren't committed to each other, but neither had ever become serious with someone else. Harry wondered if that was what he was doing now. He didn't know, but he did know it had potential and he didn't want to fuck it up because of an easy shag. 

He swivelled the chair to the right and picked up the top file. It contained the official information and reports on the break-ins and when they occurred. He would stash it away in the archive room and no one would ever find it. He hoped others wouldn't notice he wasn't working on his pet project. He glanced through it one more time, and then it struck him. Most of the reports came right after the war. What were the witches doing in Hogsmeade when Draco lived in Wiltshire? 

"Lucius," Harry mumbled as he remembered the coven telling him that Lucius Malfoy had booted them out twice. He shook his head, knowing he couldn't close the case in his own mind, until he personally knew what happened.

*********************

Draco was polishing a dining room table and twelve chairs that had just arrived from France. He loved the inlaid diamond squares of light and dark wood; the shape brought forth a vision of the design he had worn on his chest. He wondered what it would be like to wear ropes while working. 

_crash_

Draco jumped as he saw the owl slide down the front glass pane. He hurried outside to check on the bird and retrieve the missive. He gave the stunned owl a Knut and sent it on its way.

He smiled as he recognised the scribble on the front of the envelope.

_Draco Malfoy  
Malfoy's Estate Resale Shop  
Hogsmeade_

He looked up and down the pathway; no customers were in sight. He entered the store and flicked his wand, turning the sign to Closed, and settled into a plush wingback chair that moulded instantly to his form. He broke open the Ministry seal.

> _Draco,_

> _I'm hoping to put the case of the mysterious break-ins into the archives today. There is one thing that is still bothering me. I won't put your answer into the file, but for my own curiosity, I'd like to know what happened. Why was the coven in Hogsmeade soon after the war? Why weren't they seen more often? From what I learned last night, I believe it had something to do with your father. If you choose not to tell me, I'll understand._

> _I hated leaving your bed so early this morning. I know we have a lot to discuss about the coven, but I don't want all of our conversations to be about the witches. I would like to invite you over to my home, but I'm not sure you're up for seeing Ron and Hermione. If I'm not imposing, would tomorrow night be okay for a visit? I'll bring takeaway from London. Do you like curry?_

> _I look forward to your response. No one's around today, send Sonja._

> _Harry_

> _P.S. You kiss very well._

*****************

Harry shut down the Floo in his office after talking with Ron about the evening's events. They were going into Muggle London for dinner and then dancing. Harry knew Ron was about as happy with the plan as he was. It had Hermione written all over it. A little payback for not telling her whom he was seeing, yet making it easy for him not to have to spend a lot of alone time with Ginny. He shook his head; it was truly silly for him to feel this way. He never had a problem before saying he had another date or the like. The large grey owl soaring over the desks brought him out of his thoughts.

Sonja landed on the desk next to his, apparently recognising that the stack of folders was a precarious place to land. She proudly lifted her leg from underneath the feathers that hid her feet so well. 

"Thank you, Sonja," Harry said as he removed the message and patted her on the head. He couldn't help himself from then giving a stroke down her back over her feathers. He rarely did that; that attention had been reserved for only one owl, and she could never be replaced. He reached into his pocket and gave her another Galleon. Her blue eyes brightened and then she stretched her wings and silently flew away.

Harry settled back into his chair and broke the simple seal with the initials DM. 

> > _Harry,_

> _You were right; my father was involved. What the witches told you was the truth, but you must understand, my father isn't in very good shape and hasn't been for a long time. I'm not making excuses for him, but I also don't want him blamed for all of this. He did what he thought would be best for me. It wasn't the right course of action then, but it is now._

> _After the war, I was in a depression, as was my father. Mother apparently coped better than we did. She helped me care for the witches, and I think she loves them in her own way. I became increasingly unhappy as the weeks went by because I couldn't help the coven. One night, while I was sleeping, Father became furious after drinking too much, gathered them up, and dumped them in Hogsmeade. I spent the next couple of months searching for them every night. Whenever I did manage to trap one, they refused to tell me where the others were staying. After I captured Missy, the last one, I discovered they had found some caves outside of Hogsmeade. They would take turns going into town to scavenge for food and other supplies._

> _My father and I never discussed the situation when I started bringing them back to our home. Mother didn't speak to him for weeks. Once I had all of them back, Father gave me one year to either heal them or to move them out. You know what happened from there that is when I tried the spell. I thought if I could do it, I could better help them. Once I regained my human form, he gave me that year. I moved out and opened my shop with emotional support from my mother. I support the coven and myself, and I have refused any money from my father. I do allow Mother to buy clothes, which I modify, and other accessories for the witches._

> _So there is the answer to your big mystery._

> _You would be correct; I am not ready to associate with your friends. Not because of what you might think, but because of what they might think. Tomorrow night would be fine and I don't know if I like takeaway curry. I've never had it._

> _The coven would also like to speak with you tomorrow night. Seven would be fine._

> _As to other things, thanks for the peppermint sticks. My stock was running low. Do you think, by chance, that you could bring some hemp tomorrow? I think I would like to see what it feels like. I've been daydreaming all day about wearing it under my robes. The thought of just wearing that and nothing else has some appeal. What do you think?_

> _Draco_

*****************

The shop front door once again opened as he neared the threshold. Harry stepped in and intentionally ignored the tendrils of magic enticing him. He did notice the large dining room table and wondered what magic it contained. The stairwell beckoned— or rather, the wizard he would find upstairs in the flat did.

“Back here,” Draco yelled. Harry hung up his cloak next to his jacket and proceeded down the hallway to the kitchen. He carried his rucksack with him. Draco was at the sink washing dishes, many dishes. “There are plates on the island counter for dinner,” Draco said as he turned his head towards Harry and saw him taking a bag out of his rucksack. He turned back to his chore. “I’m just cleaning up after the coven’s evening meal. I’ll be done… Oh shit, that’s nice,” Draco mumbled as Harry came up behind him and ran his nose along the nape of his neck before leaving kisses along the same trail.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and continued his assault. Draco turned around despite the tight hold and let their lips meet. Harry gently brushed his over Draco’s, letting the moment before they let their tongues met linger. 

“Nice?” Harry whispered. “You’re not very nice,” he added as his tongue swiped across Draco’s lower lip.

“What?” Draco asked and pulled his head back, breaking the contact. 

Harry advanced closer, spreading his legs and putting his hand on the back of Draco’s neck. Draco’s eyes swirled with confusion, but he stepped forward, filling the space formed by Harry's stance. 

“No, not nice all,” Harry grumbled and forced Draco’s head forward into another kiss. Harry sucked on the lip he had wetted and gave it a nip before backing away. “I would say you’re a damn tease. How was I supposed to work imagining you all but naked with only hemp ropes rubbing against your chest and other parts under your robes?”

Draco’s upper lip tried to turn up as his bottom one was being mauled between Harry’s mumbles. He squeezed his hand between their chests and pushed Harry away. “I— I didn’t mean it for arousal purposes.”

Harry swiped his own lips with his tongue. “No? But would you like that, Draco? It would be both comforting and stimulating.” Harry almost sighed as Draco blushed. The enigma of the boy who spouted vitriolic words in school and the man before him, reddening because of his own desires, was engaging. 

“It would be distracting.”

Harry laughed. “Yes, for me too.”

Draco’s left brow cocked up. “Then most definitely, but may I pick the design?”

“Of course, why...oh shit, we need to talk about us, don’t we?” Harry sighed.

Draco groaned. “Only if it’s a short conversation. The witches are determined to analyse everything and have been driving me crazy. They’re positive you left your jacket as a sign of protection and the peppermint sticks— hell, you don't even want to know what they thought _those_ meant.”

Harry laughed imagining twelve Hermiones discussing his relationships. He moved back and leant against the island counter. “Okay, short it will be. Outside of the ropes, it is just Harry and Draco. You don’t need to defer to me, in fact if you do, I’ll go crazy. This is all new territory for me, too. My hope was that we could use the bondage for both need and play. There, that’s it.”

“So...what you are saying is that you would like a relationship beyond the bondage for need?”

Harry’s stomach flipped. He’d never considered that Draco might not feel the same way. The signs were there, but….

“I'd like to try, Harry, but I don’t want you doing this for some saviour reason.”

Harry shook his head. “No fear, I’m afraid you will need another saviour to protect you from me. The physical attraction alone had me wanking in the loo at work yesterday. And last night was a complete disaster.”

“What happened last night?” Draco asked as he picked up a towel and began drying the dishes. 

“Ginny was in town and I told her there wouldn’t be any benefits.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Really, no girl bits for you? You didn’t need….”

“Stop,” Harry said, stepping forward and removing the towel and plate from Draco’s hands. “Yes, I did. I don’t want to bollocks this up before it even gets started. I almost did that on Friday night.”

“I liked Friday night,” Draco whispered as he pressed his lips against Harry’s ear. “But I do understand you crossed a line you shouldn’t have,” Draco added between small kisses along Harry’s jaw and worked his way back to Harry's lips. “You do know, _Potter_ , that’s what I liked best: knowing I could still get to you."

Harry smiled seeing the mischievous look in Draco’s eyes and opened his mouth, letting Draco in. 

***********************

Harry wasn't sure if the sweat on his brow was from the curry or from thinking about what was about to happen. He would be meeting the coven in their home behind the door. Draco led him down the stairs and into his shop to stand in front of Godric's mirror. While the witches could open the hidden door from the inside, from the outside it could only be done by the reflection in the mirror. The black panther snarled at him and seemed oblivious of the other leopard. 

"Oh, he's not happy with you, Potter. What the hell did you do? I'm not going in there until you mellow him out."

Harry shook his head. "What? I haven't a clue. I mean, isn't he just my reflection, but in animal form?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter, reflections are known to match movements. He is on all fours and you are standing. Some things he will match and others he won't. When I'm on the other side, there's a pull to mimic, but it can be overcome. I would say he's mad because he feels neglected. Didn't you visit with him on your way out the other night?"

"Draco, he's not... oh, forget it. I swear, after twelve years in this magical world, there are still things that amaze me."

A soft kiss on Harry's cheek was matched with a lick to the black panther's cheek. He seemed to mellow a bit. Harry smiled and turned to Draco kissing him on the lips. "'Suppose they can't do this either?" he snickered.

"Um, Potter, don't get the leopards feeling frisky."

Harry pulled away. "Shit! Hadn't thought of that." The dark panther growled.

The flash of light left Harry standing next to Draco's leopard, which nuzzled his hand for a pet. Draco was giving his own to Harry's counterpart, who seemed to be purring. The snow leopard turned away and walked towards the far wall. Harry watched as Draco approached the door in the mirror, which was visible. He placed his hand on it and it opened. 

"You purred at me," Draco teased after he transformed again and took Harry's hand in his, leading him to the open door. Wafts of myrrh drifted through the opening. "To clear the mind," Draco whispered.

"I know," Harry whispered back. "Why are we whispering?"

Draco turned around. "I think they are doing their evening ritual."

"Oh."

The door opened to a small, dark entryway, a single candle floated high above. Harry could barely discern that there were three long corridors to choose from, one on each side and one straight ahead. "Follow me closely; it's easy to get lost. The right leads to their bedrooms, the left to their shared quarters, and straight ahead is where we will find them. Do not open any of the doors along the way. They are specially spelled to each of their capabilities, as is each piece of furniture. I'll let you know what is safe for you to touch."

Harry nodded. "Got it. Did you do all of this?"

"Yes and no," Draco said as he shut the door behind them. Magical locks could be heard engaging. "The basic layout and the door's magic is part of the mirror's magic. I just added to it."

"Incredible," Harry whispered as they proceeded down the centre corridor. The only light was from Draco's lit wand. Harry's head turned back and forth, as he viewed doors of every shape and size, with placements varied on the walls. Small niches were filled with items of interest for each of the witches. The hallway turned and then began to branch off into other directions. Draco's hand reached back and Harry grasped it as they reached a dead end, a wall composed of bricks. Harry refrained from laughing as Draco touched various bricks with his wand and they rearranged to reveal an opening. Harry squinted as bright sunshine shone in his eyes.

Draco pulled him through and Harry gasped at the world before him. It was nature at its best. Areas of jungle, mountains, snow, savannas, forests, and deserts were all visible. In front of him, though, the witches were gathered inside a circle that had been drawn in soft dirt. The myrrh was burning as embers in a fire in the very centre of the witches' circle.

Space was made and Draco led Harry inside of the circle and they sat between Jane and Nina. Harry blinked his eyes at the witch sitting directly across from him: the only one he hadn't met— Elizabeth. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, hoping that they would all take it as sign that the incense smoke was bothering him. None of them seemed to be paying attention but were focused on the tendrils of smoke coming from the small fire. He slipped his glasses back on and swallowed hard as he tried to steal glances at the witch. She was what he had imagined when he thought of someone stuck in transformation, in all its horror. Her legs, ewe, her torso and face human and her body everywhere covered in short clipped wool. Draco's gentle pinch to the outside of his thigh made him look away. 

Harry forced himself to stare at the smoke and watch it rise. It was then he saw that the shapes were not random; there were symbols, symbols he knew, but from where he didn't know. He tried to focus harder, and felt their understanding was within his grasp, but then it faded away. It was like trying to remember a dream.

Without warning, the fire was doused and chattering began. Jane stood up and began drawing in the dirt with a stick. The others nodded, spoke, or made animal sounds as she continued. The sign of the lightning bolt was made and everyone became silent, except Draco. 

"Yes, I think you should talk freely with him. I appreciate your concern for my feelings, but I agree my way will not work for any of you. I've done what I could, but it's time for someone else to help you achieve your goals."

"Harry Potter, my name is Elizabeth," the witch Harry still found hard to look at said. Her eyes were not human. "And I will do the translations for you. Using our symbols will make it difficult to discuss what we need to talk about." She paused and looked at Harry levelly. "I am the oldest witch of the twelve. I am the same age as you and Draco. In my previous life, I was an apprentice to an old witch, my great-great-aunt who had the same magical gift I have, the gift to understand animals. My family was on the verge of disowning me as they had her decades ago, when this occurred."

Something clicked in Harry's thoughts, something he knew was important in what she said about her heritage, but like the wisps of smoke, it dissolved before he could make the connection. He cleared his throat. 

"I'm honoured to meet you, Elizabeth," Harry replied. "I've never tried the spell, but having read the book Draco lent me, and having discussed it with him, I think you're all correct; his method isn't suited for Gryffindors." His hand reached over to Draco's and held it tight.

"What I've been thinking is that something is holding you back, something you all have in common. The Gryffindor qualities brought you this far, but there's something else that is prohibiting you from being successful."

A growl and hissing sounds came from the lynx-witch.

Elizabeth nodded. "Olivia wants me to tell you that we have repeatedly discussed this over the years and have reached the same conclusion. We've yet to come up with the common denominator."

"The spell says to focus on the outcome, and I can see you all did. From the essays on those who previously accomplished the Animagus transformation, it seemed they had an unfailing belief that they would be successful and there was no fear of failure. Did you all have that feeling too?"

Elizabeth stared at each of her fellow witches as they communicated amongst themselves. Harry picked up bits of English from some of them who could speak.

"Yes, but Phoebe has brought up a good point. She wants to know what you mean by 'no fear of failure'."

Harry turned to the butterfly who flitted across the circle and landed on Draco's knee close to their joined hands. "I meant not being successful at making a full Animagus transformation,” Harry stated forthrightly. “Did you fear the possibility of being trapped in the state which you're in now?"

A chorus of sounds erupted. Harry saw Draco's eyes widen as he looked back and forth among his sisters.

"Silence!" Elizabeth said loudly. "My apologies, my sisters, but I can't understand you all at once." She listened for a few minutes as the witches expressed themselves more calmly and then turned back to Harry. 

"Harry, _that_ is not what we feared. We feared death. We weren't afraid of succeeding, or being trapped in a half-transformed state, but of dying if we failed."

Draco shook his head; this was new information to him. "Why would you fear death? You believe in reincarnation."

"Reincarnation?" Harry mumbled and looked at Draco quizzically.

"Yes, reincarnation," Nina said loudly. "Our energy becomes one with all energy, but our soul goes to a place of respite, and then we are gifted with another life, unless we believe we are at a perfect state. Don't you fear death, Harry? Most people we knew in the past who didn't share our beliefs feared death."

Harry tried to process what he was being told and combine it with his own experiences.

"But what about the ghosts?" Anna asked. Harry watched the group of witches shiver in response.

"What about the ghosts?" Draco asked.

"Pe— Peter told us we would become ghosts if we died in a half transformed body," Mathilda squeaked.

"He what!?" Draco bellowed. "I never heard him say that!"

"But he did, Brother, when he first trained us when you weren't around. He told the later ones the same thing, while you were at school. He told us that if we didn't succeed, we would become ghosts and our souls would be trapped."

"So the transformation stopped at a point where life could be sustained, as opposed to carrying on through to completion. It stopped at a safe transition point," Harry proffered.

Draco huffed. "And you never bothered telling me about the ghosts!"

Harry could feel Draco's annoyance; he just hoped it didn't turn into something more right now.

"Brother, we thought you knew. You spoke of the ghosts at Hogwarts as if they were of no consequence, even though you know they're an abomination to our beliefs. You know we would never proselytise," Elizabeth declared and then looked back over to Harry. "Their souls have not moved on and their energy has not joined the cosmic energy. We did try and advance under Draco's guidance, but we were fearful."

Draco threw a nearby pebble into the centre of the circle. Harry could feel his disappointment and frustration that this information had been withheld from him. 

"Wait," Harry said commandingly. "Ghosts occur by choice. Wizards and witches are given a choice to move on or have their spirit, energy, whatever you want to refer to it as, stay grounded to this world."

"And how do you know this?" Nina sniped.

"I asked," Harry retorted. "And in answer to your question, Nina, no, I don't fear death. I had my chance to move on and chose to come back. I've seen others who have moved on, though— my parents, specifically. Now whether they will be reincarnated or think they are perfect the way they are, I have no idea. My belief is, that as long as someone remembers and loves the person who has passed on, then that person's spirit or soul lives on for that person. Maybe when time passes, and people are forgotten they reincarnate. I'm going to leave that for others to figure out. But becoming a ghost is a definite choice."

The circle became silent. 

Elizabeth finally spoke. "I think we need time to think about this."

Draco stood and brought Harry up with him. "It's time to go," he said.

Kelly rose and used her bushy tail to swipe away the circle drawn in the loose dirt.

Harry, once again, realised that the witches had so drawn him in that their appearances were irrelevant. He also needed to think about the situation some more, but he felt they'd made a start. He waited by the arch for Draco, who was saying his goodbyes, and marvelled at the scenery. Draco, Godric, or whoever, had provided a beautiful, safe environment in which the coven could live.

*****************

"Would you like some brandy?" Draco asked as they entered his flat.

"Yes," Harry responded immediately. 

"I'll go get it; you stay and raise the fire. I'm freezing."

Harry increased the blaze, and plopped in the leather chair, his mind racing with thoughts of the coven. _Could that fear have stopped the spell?_

"Ugh," Harry groaned as his rucksack was dropped in his lap.

"You don't need to leave this for me," Draco said teasingly as he put the snifters of brandy on the side table and sat in the other chair, next to a lit candle. "It's in deplorable shape."

"I wasn't going to leave it, Draco, but I was thinking of leaving the contents," Harry said, lifting his glass of brandy and warming it over the candle flame. "You did, after all, request I bring more than dinner."

Draco's eyes brightened. "May I see?"

Harry opened his rucksack. "Maybe. And maybe I'll even let you touch them," Harry joked as he withdrew the set of three ropes tied up in figure eights. "Here," he said, handing them to Draco. "Let me know which one you would like to use for your karada."

"How— how did you get them so soft and pliant?" Draco gasped as he ran the chords roughly through his hands. "They don't burn at all."

Harry raised a brow. "My secret," he said and then laughed. 

Draco was entranced by the ropes. "And the colours? You coloured them yourself, too?"

"Yes, Draco, I washed, boiled, coloured, oiled, and burned them repeatedly. As you can see, I like red too, but, yesterday at work, while wanking in the loo, the black one is the one I imagined you in."

Draco's lips pursed together as his cheeks brightened. Without looking at Harry, he handed the red and natural toned ones back to him.

"Good choice," Harry said as he took them back and put them in his bag and then set it down by his chair. "I have many others, and, eventually, you might like to try a little rougher texture." 

Draco's shoulders shook. "You're shameless."

Harry moved quickly from his seat to kneeling straight in front of Draco. He put his hands on Draco's thighs. Draco eyes flickered at the sudden movement in position. 

"I am shameless, and I hope you will be too. I want you to embrace this part of being human. We're not hurting anyone," Harry whispered and then lifted Draco's chin with his fingers, leant over, and kissed him.

*****************

The early morning sun shone through Draco's bedroom window. Harry hadn't planned on spending the night, but he hadn't refused when Draco offered. He would've come back in the morning to tie the karada, but it would be more enjoyable doing it this way. His hand rested on Draco's black-silk-covered bum. He slept starkers. It would be a while before they went further than wanking each other. He knew Draco wanted to go further last night, but Harry wanted to slow it down. There was time to go further; there was no rush. This, he had told Draco, was time to cherish, as there were only so many moments of firsts to be had. Besides, Harry thought, as his hand stroked Draco's bum, before sliding over and handling the erection forming, jacking off was fun.

Draco scooted back, and Harry wasn't quite sure if he was awake or not until the intentional movements of Draco's arse rubbed up and down his hardened dick. Draco gave a lovely purring sound, and his hand reached back and wrapped around Harry's shaft. Draco forced it between his silk covered crack and continued sliding up and down. Both of them moaned in unison until Draco groaned his release. Harry forced Draco's bottoms down and stroked his own cock roughly. Draco whimpered as Harry painted his bare bum with his come.

Harry knew better than to take Draco up on the offer of showering with him. The morning wank would have only been a starter. Instead, he offered to make breakfast. He donned one of Draco's aprons as he whipped up cheese omelettes for both of them. Draco appeared shocked as he entered the kitchen in his dressing gown to find sliced tomatoes and toast decoratively placed on their plates. Coffee was made and it was strong. 

******************************

Draco found the position of the nawa jūjun both comforting and painful, and that, he knew, was how it should be. His dressing gown and clean robes were tossed on the unmade bed; he briefly thought about getting up and straightening the room, but he heard the shower tap being turned off and didn't want to be caught unprepared. He focused on the long black rope, which he had untied and laid across his lap. The picture of the rope corset, as the book called it, was placed on the floor. He was sure Harry would add his own touches and tried not to grin as the loo door opened.

Draco truly tried to keep his eyes cast downwards, but he could see Harry's bare feet and legs with a towel's edge above the knees. _Fuck, this was going to be hard,_ Draco thought, knowing Harry had done this on purpose. He gulped as Harry squatted down and retrieved the drawing; hints of what was under the towel flashed before him.

"I approve," Harry said and held out his hand for Draco to take and stand. Shivers ran up his spine at Harry's voice. It was lower and commanding, with none of the gentle tones that usually infused it. "But I'll need some more rope for the breast harness, and even more if you want the added crotch rope. Did you want to do that today?" Harry asked casually.

Draco couldn't decipher a single hint whether Harry cared or not about what he chose. "I leave that up to you, Harry. I know you have to be at work soon, and this will take a while."

Harry snorted as he turned to Draco's trunk and opened it. "The red will look nice with the black. If you can follow directions— and are able to stand still," he added with a smirk, "then we will have time." He picked up two ropes of shorter length. 

"Hold up your arms and cross them over your head," Harry said and quickly folded the red rope in half and wrapped it around the top of Draco's chest. "Turn," Harry ordered, and he made a standard lark's head knot in the back. Draco turned again, this time without being told. Harry's expression didn't change. A second wrap was then made, making four rope strands across the top of Draco's chest. Harry ran the lines through the lark's head in the back and placed the next binding tie below Draco's chest, framing his almost non-existent breasts. "I'm not going to do this as tight as I would if I were going to stay," he mentioned as Draco spun around and he finished off the section with a bow. 

Quickly, he selected the second rope, doubled it and wrapped it once again under Draco's chest and then brought it over Draco's right shoulder, looped it under the lower ties, and after a few weaves for aesthetic purposes, brought it back over his other shoulder. He finished it with a knot in the back. Draco turned, and for the first time, Harry was grinning. It was unnerving. Harry brought his hands to the protruding small breasts and rubbed his thumb pads over the distended nipples. The nerves Harry hit went straight to his prick, and it was lengthening with every touch. Draco groaned as Harry tweaked them hard before turning away and picking up his rope: the black one.

Draco seriously thought he was going to get dizzy, spinning back and forth as Harry applied the black rope to his torso. Starting with the front and adding the ends to the breast harness to begin the weave, Harry wrapped the lines around Draco, back and forth, none of the lines crossing each other and with the lark's head knots located in front for each complete wrap. Each line brought additional comfort. He felt as if Harry was wrapping part of himself around his body. The ending was just above his hips, creating a centreline of knots from below his chest to his hips; there was still rope that remained.

"You did well," Harry said, "and for that you shall have your reward."

Without a word, Draco widened his stance and Harry passed a single length of rope on the left side of his groin. Draco turned quickly and the rope went tight over his crack and was passed through the lower wraps of the corset. The line once again went down his bum, came up on the right side of his balls, and was then secured to the front of the corset. Draco was sure Harry was finished, but Harry's fingers quickly wrapped the one remaining rope around the two lines leading up to the corset, pulling them together until tight at the base of his cock. Draco groaned. Harry smirked as he watched Draco's penis harden and then his face grimace. 

"It's a rope cock ring, Draco. I figured if I have to suffer thinking about you today, then you could have a little pain, too. Such a dilemma, eh? Now why don't you see if you can move around well enough, and I'll get dressed. Let me know if you need any adjustments, because I won't be coming back over just to do that."

Draco hid his own smirk as he saw Harry's towel tenting. 

"Harry." 

Harry turned around, with a surprised look at having been spoken to.

"Yes?"

Draco lowered his head and eyes, knowing the words he spoke would strike Harry where it counted. "Thank you."

Harry nodded and went into the loo.

Draco walked around the room slowly at first and then at the more hurried pace he used in the shop. He bent over a few times and moved from side to side. The ropes moved with him, but there was enough resistance to let him know they were there, especially the ones around his waist and the special addition Harry had added. The thought of being safely bound all day gave him a sense of calmness he rarely had in the morning. He picked up his wand and tried the spell Harry used the other night. His breath hitched as he saw his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't stop admiring the boldness of the two colours, and the rows of lines forming the corset, and the straight line down his torso, and....

"You look beautiful, Draco," a soft voice said from the bathroom doorway. "Any adjustments?"

Draco shook his head. "No. It's wonderful. I think I might fancy having this done more often."

Harry laughed as he approached the bed and picked up Draco's robes. "Here, let's put these on and make sure."

Draco slipped on the robes and Harry helped him adjust them in the back so they flowed normally. "Fuck, Malfoy, this is going to kill me thinking about you all day."

Draco laughed, backed up a step, and grabbed Harry's arms, wrapping them around his waist. He moved them up and down his sides. 

"You'll just have to come back at lunchtime, then," he teased. The fantasy that Harry might just do that made him quiver. 

Harry's hands reached down and caressed the black cloth covering Draco's captured dick. "I could think of some uses for that dining room table," Harry growled as he nuzzled Draco's neck and let both of his hands take their turn stroking Draco's cock.

They both jumped as they heard a soft knock on the bedroom door. 

"Draco, Harry, are you in there?" a small female voice asked.

Draco shook his head at Harry, signalling he didn't recognise it. They both retrieved their wands. Harry put his finger to his lips and motioned to Draco to respond.

"Yes, who is it?" Draco asked trying to sound casual.

"Draco, it's Mildred— Missy."

Draco began to breathe heavily. "Missy? Missy? You can talk?"

"Yes, and I was wondering if you could help me. I want to go home."

Draco could feel the colour drain away from his face. He waved his wand and the door opened. A petite, young blonde witch entered. He barely recognised her; he hadn't seen her face in over five years. "Missy," he cried, "Oh Merlin, it's you. How? When?"

She smiled as Draco ran over to her and hugged her tightly. 

She giggled, looked over at Harry, and rolled her eyes as Draco began to sob.

"This morning," she started as Draco released his hold on her. His fingers ran through her hair. "This morning when Jane had to come up and get some fresh meat for Nina, I snuck out. I went to the mirror and saw my reflection, and then it just happened."

Harry stepped forward and put his arm around her, leading over to the bed, which he straightened with a spell before she sat down. Draco sat down next to her. His arm wrapped protectively around her. "And you want to go home?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just to visit. I would come right back, I couldn't leave you and my sisters until they were all better, too."

Draco nodded. "Okay, love, but they are going to ask a lot of questions, and...Missy, I don't even know where you live."

"I do," Harry said and sat down on the other side of the witch.

Draco looked over at Harry and gave him a questioning look.

"I know where all of them came from, and who their parents are and where they now live. Some have moved. Missy's have stayed. Her family lives outside of Lerwick on the Shetland Islands. Her father is a Muggle fisherman, and her mother, a witch specialising in Potions. She brews potions made from family recipes and sells them to apothecaries around the world."

Missy looked up at Harry and Draco could see the wonder in her eyes. "Yes, yes, and I have older and younger brothers; all magical. Mum was so proud. Dad pretended to be upset, but he loved how they helped him catch the biggest nets of fish."

A part of Draco felt very sad. He knew she wouldn't be coming back. Her family would not let her and he didn't blame them. "Have you told the others?" Draco asked.

"No, I was too scared. I mean, what happens if they try too and it doesn't work? I waited downstairs for you, but you were running late. I didn't want a customer to come by and see me through the window, so I came up. I hope that was okay."

Draco smiled. He couldn't stop staring at her face. The dark eyes, with the blonde hair, were stunning. She was now sixteen and beautiful in every way. "It's fine, love. You did the right thing."

"And don't worry about the others," Harry said. "We will try our best to make sure they are successful too. Draco, I've got to go now, but if Missy does want to go home, send me an owl and I'll take her at lunchtime. I don't want anyone to know about the rest of the witches or your involvement. The Ministry would have a field day."

Draco's stomach dropped. He wanted to be the one to return each witch to her family, but Harry was right. Now was not the time. "Okay, but for now, Missy, you need to go back with your sisters and show off your success. It'll give them confidence. If you wait in the parlour, I'll go down with you. I'll be just a few minutes."

Draco watched her walk out of the room. There weren't any remnants of her being in animal form for so many years. Her gait was normal, her expressions normal. He leaned on Harry's shoulder as Harry moved over and put his arm around him. "Don't Obliviate her," Draco said, his voice cracking.

Harry sighed. "Draco, it's too dangerous to let her go right now without doing it."

Draco sat back up straight. "I don't care if the whole damn Ministry comes my way; she deserves to remember."

Harry set his jaw and nodded. "Okay. I'm going to go home and change and then get to work and think about how to handle it."

****************************

The small barn owl landed on Harry's desk. He'd been expecting it. Mildred wanted to go home and he couldn't blame her. He removed the missive and gave the owl a treat. It seemed satisfied.

> _Harry,_

> _There are two more additions. Mathilda and Nina were successful. They've decided to stay for a few days, recognising the precarious situation. Missy still wants to go home._

> _It's both a wondrous and sad day for me. I can't thank you enough for your help. I'm aware that if I hadn't been so prideful five years ago, this could've happened earlier._

__

> _I await your arrival,  
>  Draco_

This should have been a day of private fantasies thinking of Draco, but Harry was glad that he'd taken the time to put on the rope corset as Draco had requested. It would give him some feeling of security throughout the day. This was a day of need, not of fun. He silently cursed himself for being so selfish. A family was about to see their daughter whom they thought dead. _Priorities, Potter, have some priorities._

******************

The air was cold and crisp; Harry wrapped his cloak around the witch. She only had the one dress that Draco could alter on such short notice; the shoes were too small, but at least she had some. 

"Nervous?" he whispered as they stood within the ruins of Scalloway Castle. Kingsley had looked at him askance when he had asked permission to do a long-distance Apparition to Scalloway. He had left out the Side-Along part. 

"A bit," Missy replied as they made their way out of the walls of rock, trying to look like sightseers who had lost their way.

"So you understand that you'll be keeping this a secret for a while? You can tell them everything, except where you were and about Draco. We need time for your sisters. I'll tell them that part of your memory was Obliviated."

She grabbed onto his arm as she stepped down onto the surrounding street. "Yes, Harry. I love my brother and sisters, I would never hurt them."

In front of the castle were the oil tanks the islands were known for, and in front of them were the docks. He glanced to the right and up at the grassy hillside where the small town homes were. There were no trees in sight. It was a very barren and cold land. Main Street, with its two-storey homes built next to each other, was easy to find. Missy was dragging him along with her as she ran when they neared a row of flat-front houses. She stopped in front of a white house with green trim. The door had a green arch over it, which Harry thought was appropriate. He put his hand on her shoulder and she knocked on the door.

"Mummy!" she cried to the witch who opened the door.

*****************

The sign on the window turned to closed. "How did it go?" Draco asked anxiously before Harry even had a chance to close the shop door behind him. 

"Fine, but let's talk upstairs." The mirror's magic seemed stronger than ever. He wanted to run into the other room and see the dark leopard, but his wariness of magical mirrors and his Auror instincts stopped the inclination.

As they entered Draco's flat, Draco headed for the chair by the fire, but Harry started down the hallway. "I'm famished, Draco, do you have anything to eat? After I got back to work, I had to go out on a stakeout in Wales. Chocolate Frogs only go so far." He turned around as he reached the kitchen to make sure Draco was following him.

"Yes, just sit down. I'll get you something," Draco replied. "Keep talking, though. And it might be time to take the ropes off after you eat."

Harry glanced over to Draco as he lit the fire in the stove and put a pot on to warm. His movements seemed a bit stilted.

"Shit, Draco, you should've called if they were too tight."

Draco slipped his apron on, tying the strings around his front. "They're not; it's just your little addition that's getting annoying."

"Really? I could remove it right now if you like," Harry said as he scooted back his chair and stood. He closed the space between them in a few steps. Draco was slicing thick cuts of bread on the counter as he watched the chicken soup. Harry's hands wrapped around Draco's waist from behind and slid down. "Isn't this where we left off this morning?" Harry murmured in Draco's ear. "I appreciate that you left it on, waiting for me to remove it."

Draco squirmed as Harry's hands increased the annoyance. 

"Keep moving like that and I'll skip the food," Harry teased. He liked this feeling of Draco growing hard under his touch.

"I have a knife, Potter. Let me finish your meal and then you can remove it."

Harry snickered. "No, I don't think so. I think I fancy doing this right now."

Draco groaned as he stirred the soup and set the bread in a basket. He was trying to ignore the hands that were pulling up the voluminous robe material, trying to find their goal. He couldn't stop the wiggle as one hand circled his cock and the other held his stones. 

"You're a total perv. Why didn't I know this about you?" Draco muttered, and then turned his head to meet Harry's lips with his own.

"Get the damn apron and robes off," Harry commanded. His hand ventured to Draco's bum. He couldn't resist tugging on the strands of rope wedged between Draco's cheeks.

Draco fumbled with the apron tie and then the clasps on his robes. Harry seemed to know exactly when he was done and pulled the robes off him. They pooled at his feet.

"Fuck, Draco," Harry moaned, as his hands rubbed over the black and red ropes. They explored everywhere, never resting for more than a tweak to Draco's chest or a tug on the bindings pulling them tighter. Draco was writhing under the mauling, his backside rubbing against Harry's Auror robes and the bulge that was just for him.

With two deft motions, Harry turned Draco around and lifted him up, placing him on the counter. "This is a first, remember it," he warned as he spread Draco's legs and bent down, opened his mouth, and lowered it onto the swelling head of Draco's cock.

"Shi— fuck, Harry," Draco gritted out. His hands wanted to reach into the black hair, but his balance was at stake. Instead, he leaned back and his bum instinctively rose off the marble counter.

Harry knew he was lost; Draco, without even trying, had driven him over the edge again. He loved the sounds Draco was making, and read each one, matching it to what his tongue and mouth were doing. The flicking across his slit was driving him mad. Harry held down Draco's thighs as the thrusting became too much. He took more in and let his tongue bathe Draco's shaft. He could tell Draco was close, as the whimpers became rhythmic and increased in intensity. His fingers untied the sealing knot and hurried to unwrap the hold on Draco's cock and balls. Draco yelled as his body jerked up, filling Harry's mouth with warm come. 

Draco panted, trying to catch his breath; Harry rested his head on his thigh and gently licked around the gradually softening cock. Draco reached over and stroked his hair.

"Hello! Draco! Are you home?" a voice yelled as they heard the front door open.

Harry released Draco's dick and began to chuckle. He stood, and before Draco could stop him, a spell was cast.

"Draco! Oh no, Draco, are you okay? I can't move! Don't worry, Son, your father is on his way up." 

They both yelped as the pot of soup boiled over and the flames hissed.

"Mother, stay where you are. I'm fine. I'll be there in a moment."

Harry leaned down and picked up Draco's robes. "You might need these."

Draco glared at him. "Brilliant deduction, Potter," Draco mumbled as he slid off the counter. Harry snickered at the trail of black rope. He pulled on it and then severed it with his wand. Draco looked horrified.

"I have more, don't worry," Harry replied as he wound the length around his hand.

"Draco? Is someone in there with you? Who are you talking to?"

"I'm fine, Mother, and yes I have company. Is Father really downstairs?"

There was no reply.

"He's not here," Draco mumbled as he tried to right his robes. "Go ahead and eat, I'll take Mother down to see the witches. That's why she's here."

"Draco Malfoy! I insist you release me from this spell right now!"

Harry lifted his wand as Draco made his way out of the kitchen.

Harry laughed as he heard Narcissa Malfoy berating her son for his rude behaviour as the flat door opened and closed.

******************************

"I've got to go home tonight," Harry mumbled reluctantly, his face half smooshed into the pillows. "The last thing I need is a more suspicious Ron and Hermione, and I need to care for the ropes."

Draco continued his light scratching of Harry's back. Straddling Harry's thighs gave him the perfect perspective of the body he was close to becoming addicted to; the last three nights and mornings had proven that to him. He knew that if all of this were happening without Harry nearby, he would've been a basket case. Instead, as the changes were coming right and left, he revelled in their stolen moments and the meticulous bindings that had become a ritual after his shower. He had put up a spell to warn if anyone was coming up the stairs.

Missy was fine, and that warmed his heart. She had sent an owl saying she would return in a few weeks. Draco doubted it. Her mother had hardly asked Harry any questions and, according to Harry, seemed to simply accept the generous gift she was receiving. Her father and older brothers were out on their boat and wouldn't be back for a few days. Harry had said the older witch appeared to have been relieved that she would have this time alone with her daughter. Nina and Mathilda decided to take on more of the responsibilities that Draco had been handling. They were careful, in any excursion they made outside, to do so only at night and, even then, did so heavily cloaked. Narcissa had donated to the cause and provided the appropriate clothing the young witches needed. The others had not attempted it yet, some still afraid. Harry had promised to come over on the upcoming Saturday and spend time with each one and be with them as they faced the mirror.

"Do Weasley and Granger know about your deviant behaviour?" Draco asked. Harry flinched as Draco's nails ran down his side. Draco could see half of the grin that intrigued him so much the night they went out to dinner. 

"No, it's been the only secret I've kept from them. I'm sure Hermione would psychoanalyse it to death and wreck all of my fun."

Draco tried not to laugh, but failed. "And Ron?"

"Ron," Harry yawned, "is just Ron. I think he's still in the quantity over quality phase. He likes the chase, but is bollocks when he happens to capture the witch."

Draco smiled. Harry was not helping to dispel some of his previous thoughts about the two— well, besides their both being able to attract sexual partners. He grimaced, knowing those weren't the kind of thoughts he should be having. He pushed them away and thought about other things, nicer things.

*************************

Waking up alone seemed unnatural, and showering without company was dismal. Harry yawned as the tap's hot spray eased him into thinking of the day's work. Not only had Ron and Hermione commented on his absence at home, the other Aurors had given him strange looks when he’d taken to leaving the minute his workday was over. He wondered what the hell his thoughts had been filled with before these last few weeks. Now thoughts of the coven consumed him— and quite a few thoughts about Draco Malfoy as well. The closest he could come to describing it to himself, was that it was like being addicted to a drug. Visions of Draco both bound and unbound captivated him. The ease with which they read each other's needs and wants was extraordinary. Draco had slipped into his life, his thoughts, and his dreams.

"Lunch at the Leaky today?" Ron asked as he added two fried eggs to the sausage and bacon already on his plate.

"Sure, any reason why?"

"Because he wants to buy you a few pints so you'll spill who it is you're seeing," Hermione said, handing Harry his first morning cup of coffee. She sat down next to Harry and across from Ron. 

Harry laughed. "It would take more than a few, Ron, but if you're buying we can see how it goes."

"You'd tell him, but not me?" Hermione pouted, but still passed him the sugar and cream.

Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Marry me, Hermione, and I'll forget about what's-his-name."

"Ah-ha!" Ron bellowed. "A male!"

Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder. "Well, that narrows it down by half. So, why won't you tell us?"

Harry sipped his coffee. "To be honest, I'm afraid I'll jinx it. It still doesn't seem quite real and I feel if I talk about it too much, it'll lose some of its mystery."

Hermione straightened up and swatted Harry across the head. "That's pure rubbish, Potter."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Rather lame, mate, she's right."

"What? You don't think I could fall...."

"Oh my God, Harry," Hermione squealed. "You are, aren't you?"

"What is he?" Ron asked, biting a sausage in half.

"In love, idiot," Hermione responded, staring at Harry as if she could confirm it by inspection.

Harry sighed. "I'm not in love, Hermione. I'm in— in— infatuated."

Ron choked and coughed. "I still say bullshit; you just found someone you like fucking."

Before Hermione could grab Harry, he was across the table and his hands at Ron's throat. 

"Harry!" she yelled. "Stop it now!" With a swish of her wand, Harry was frozen.

"Fuck, mate, sorry," Ron said as he eased himself out of Harry's grasp.

"Shit, Ron, I'm the one who is sorry," Harry replied as Hermione ended the spell and he settled back into his chair. "I don't know what the hell just happened."

Hermione stood up and brought her plate to the sink. "I'd say you've got it bad, Harry."

"I do n...wh...just a second," Harry mumbled as a spot on his thigh warmed. He set down a piece of bacon and reached into his pocket. His fingers touched a coin and the heat dissipated. 

"What is it?" Ron asked as he scooped up the last bit of egg on his fork.

"Um, not sure yet," Harry responded absent-mindedly. His mind was wondering why Draco would be calling for him at seven in the morning. The witches had agreed not to try the spell alone and to wait until the weekend. Harry stood and took his plate to the sink. "I've got to go...."

"Shit," Hermione yelped and Ron dropped his plate as a lynx Patronus appeared in the kitchen. 

"Hogsmeade! Fire! Malfoy's shop!" a deep voice said, coming from the Patronus. The silver cat disintegrated.

 

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

Before the Patronus bearing the message about the fire at Draco’s shop had completely faded, Harry was springing into action.

"Ron, Hermione, come with me!" Harry yelled, and then Summoned his other wand and robes.

"Harry, I can't go on an Auror...."

"Hermione, please!" he begged. "It's Draco—that is who I've been seeing, and there's so much more. I need you."

Ron Disapparated immediately. Harry saw Hermione nod as he vanished.

Harry arrived in front of the shop; he stumbled backwards as someone pulled him away. 

"You can't go in!" Ron shouted; the roar of the fire was overwhelming. Flames shot out of the shattered front window and licked the front of his robes. Above, from the second story, the flames burst through the windows; slivers of glass rained down.

"I have to go in!" Harry cried as he joined those using the _Augmenti_ spell to try to douse the fire. It seemed to be feeding on the furniture's magic and rebuffed all attempts to squelch it.

"Potter! Get over here!" 

Harry ran over to Kingsley, who was two shop doors down. A crowd of Aurors was standing in a circle. Harry advanced, the circled opened, and he saw tracks of blood leading to a body. A mediwizard was hunched over the man. He couldn't see his face, but the deep gashes down his chest and chunk of flesh missing from his thigh added a notch to his panic level.

"Who is it?" Harry yelled over the sound of the residents of Hogsmeade, who all seemed to be in the streets shouting and crying.

"We don't know, but he's a Muggle."

Harry flinched. 

"Proudfoot and Savage are chasing down the beast that did this. It dragged the man out here and then took off."

Harry took a deep breath, his heart pounding. He willed himself to think straight. "Where did the animal go? When? Anything else?"

"A few minutes ago, towards Hogwarts. The baker said he'd seen a flurry of creatures pouring out of the door as the flames started. He said they were deformed, but I think he's in shock. They were headed down the alley and up into the hills."

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. "Okay, I'll go help Savage and Proudfoot. I might need Ron to help me out."

"Go, and take who you need!" Kingsley shouted. As they all ducked behind a protection spell, the building exploded.

"Ron, Hermione, come with me!" Harry yelled as he grabbed their robes, pulling them across the street. 

"God, what is it, Harry? What's going on?" Hermione asked, looking at him with a concern he hadn't seen on her face for years. 

"Draco...Animagus...and there are others who are stuck. He's been trying to help them. Oh God, Hermione, Ron, you have to find them. Bring them to Grimmauld. Get them out of here!"

"Shit, mate, where are they?" Ron asked, his attention fluctuating between Harry and the fire that was expanding to the nearby buildings. Thick smoke was now making it almost impossible to see.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...shit...I can't think! Got it! The caves! They used to live in the caves, like Padfoot. Go there. Some of them can talk.... Oh shit!" Harry said and broke out coughing as the wind pushed the smoke in their direction. The moment gave him another thought. "Ron, get Witch Trudy— I think she can understand animals. Oh, and for Merlin's sake, please treat them as witches. There are nine of them stuck, two were successful in returning to human form, and they...and they're all wonderful."

"Okay, okay, Harry, but where are you going?" Hermione shouted as Ron was pulling her away from Harry and in the direction of the outskirts of the town. 

"To find a leopard, I hope," Harry yelled back. He turned away, taking a deep breath and forcing down the sob trying to escape. He inhaled thick smoke and began hacking as he Disapparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

The gates were locked, but the Protection Spells let him enter. The air was clear, but he could see the plumes of smoke in the distance, and the scent of smoke was present. He ran as fast as he could towards the castle, wishing he had his broom. In the distance, he could see students being rushed inside. His feet felt like clay; he was stumbling forward, trying to cross the distance. He heard a blast coming from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Birds launched out of the treetops. He grabbed his side as a stitch formed, slowing him down. He searched everywhere for a sign of the other Aurors. He needed to find them, to tell them it wasn't an animal, that it was Draco. His heart pounded harder as he thought of the panic Draco was feeling. Draco had called him with the coin, telling him he was needed. Fuck, if he'd just Disapparated right that second. His ankle turned as his boot heel struck the side of rock. He was falling forward; he put his hands out to catch his fall.

The landing was soft, and before he could gather his wits, he was bounding forward at a speed he had never achieved before; his muscles felt long and powerful. The scent of smoke was now stronger, and other smells, smells of humans and animals, filled his nose. His ears twitched at sounds that echoed loudly in his ears. The ground was a blur as he ran, but he knew this was the path. A scent hit him, and he growled; it was blood, blood he knew. His back paws dug into the grassy earth with more force propelling him forward until he reached the forest's edge, where he came to a full stop. He was panting, but his senses processed the wonders before him. A bent twig higher than his brother's gait, deep prints in the moss, the sound of a rabbit, recognising his form and scurrying into the underbrush, and a large bumblebee hovering over the trumpet flower without a care; it knew it wasn't the problem or the solution. 

A yell of, "There it is!" sent the next shot of adrenaline coursing through him. A familiar scent struck him and he leapt over the fallen trees towards a small hill of large rocks. The pads of his paws barely touched the rocks he climbed up. Stronger, stronger, stronger the scent was becoming, more blood, and then he heard sounds: a snarl, a hiss, and then a whimper. The rocks were larger and covered with sticky webs; he climbed to the top and stopped, surveying the scene below. His brother in a tree, perfectly still; the aroma of fear and blood struck a visceral nerve. 

The black panther leapt off the small cliff and landed in front of two men. Never mind that he somehow knew these men, they were classified as enemy in his present state. He paced back and forth in front of them, snarling and spitting, daring them to make a move against him or his brother. The men didn't say a word and stayed perfectly still. One of them stared at his face with a questioning look. The leopard watched their hands, waiting for a twitch of a finger. 

The cat up in the tree backed down and hobbled over to the dark one and growled at him. 

"Potter? Potter, is that you?" the man staring at him intently said excitedly.

The black panther froze and cocked his head to look at the man who spoke to him. He blinked. The two men in robes backed away. 

"Okay, Harry, we'll let you take it from here," the other one mumbled. The cat waited until they were out of sight before turning to his snow leopard brother. The white fur was almost black and was streaked with blood. He wanted to lick it away, to find the wound and let his spit help heal it. When he moved to do so, however, the smaller leopard growled and struck his shank with extended claws before trying to run away. 

The black panther hissed and raised his own paw before springing into action and accelerating to full speed in a flash. He vaulted and landed on the other, taking it to the ground. The struggle of the cat beneath him was fierce; the panther bit down on the white leopard's neck, and the feline stilled. The panther became human.

 

"It's okay, Draco, I got you," Harry whispered in the leopard's ear. The cat turned his head. Harry could see the human expressions of pain, anger, and fear coming through. He could feel the feline’s muscles tense, and instinct told him that the white leopard was going to make another break for it. Quickly, he wrapped one arm around the thick, furry neck, and the other reached for his wand. He jumped off the cat and yelled, " _Incarcerous_. 

The leopard tried to escape, but it tangled in the long ropes coming from the wand. Harry tried to see where the leopard was hurt, but right now the greater need was to get them both out of the forest and somewhere safe. The leopard's front and back legs were tightly bound; the cat's snarling slowly diminished, and with a final huff, he laid down his head on the earth.

"I'm going to take you to a safe place, Draco," Harry said as he put his hand on the defeated feline and Disapparated. 

As soon as they arrived, Harry hastened to reassure Draco. 

"I'll take care of the situation. Ron and Hermione are up in the caves looking for the coven, and they're taking them to my house," Harry whispered. "This is my special place; it's where I practise my art. It's the Shrieking Shack, but don't worry; I don't make my models shriek," Harry added, trying to lighten the tension. The snow leopard snarled.

"I'm going to send a message to Ron and Hermione telling them I have you. We'll work everything out together."

The leopard's eyes were dazed. Harry watched him take in the surroundings. The furnishings were minimal: a few shelves, tables, chairs, and some barrels in a corner. Three of the walls were mirrored, the fourth covered in ropes of every type, colour, and length. The animal's eyes rotated up and looked at the ceiling; it too was reflective. 

"Yes, Draco, there are hooks up there. I'd suspend you, but you're injured, my friend. I can't," Harry said consolingly. 

Harry brought out his holly wand. The cat's eyes brightened at the sight of the silver stag that emerged and then vanished as it ran through a mirror. Harry stepped over to the shelves and selected a few bottles of coloured liquid and a small pot of balm. A cloth appeared and he dunked it into a barrel he used to soak his ropes, wetting it. He brought the items over to the hurt feline. 

"I have to find the injury, Draco. Don't worry, I'm trained to do minor healing. If it's anything major, I'll get some help."

Harry tried not to wince as he got his first really good look at the leopard. The whiskers were singed, there were bloodstains around the mouth, and the white fur was matted with dried blood mixed with dirt and ash. 

"I need to untie you, Draco. I'm going to give you a bath. I can't see anything." The cat mewled.

Red and black ropes were pulled out of a different barrel and placed on the table. The barrel was Transfigured into a large tub and was filled with warm water. Harry opened a bottle and poured in a silvery potion. His hands worked quickly and gently, untying the magical ropes that bound Draco. 

"Damn, these things are horrendous. You know they were made for torture, don't you? Sometime in the future, I'm going to see if I can modify the spell. I hate using them. I'm sorry, Draco, I know they burn."

Harry finished and levitated the leopard into the makeshift tub of water. He expected Draco to flinch; the purr was unexpected. The water was continually cleansed as the leopard's white fur and black marks became visible again. Overhead a silver mist appeared and formed into an otter at Harry’s feet.

"Coven at Grimmauld. All accounted for. Witch Trudy has arrived."

Harry nodded as the relief poured through him and the otter dematerialized. Another silver mist arrived. A small dog opened its mouth and barked out, "Kingsley livid! Malfoy's parents hysterical! Muggle alive!"

"Fuck!" Harry yelled. The leopard lifted his head from the water and licked the hand washing his fur.

Harry smiled. "You know that's a nice gesture, but I'd rather have your human tongue doing that in other places, and before you growl at me, you will be human, Draco, very soon. Don't look at me like that. I know the damn mirror is probably destroyed.” 

He sighed as he considered everything Ron’s short message conveyed. The part regarding Kingsley was the worst, but Harry shoved aside the worries about the trouble he was in; he was still too angry to think about consequences. 

“I'm assuming the Muggle was Missy's father. So much for doing no evil.” He held up a hand to forestall the protest he knew Draco would make. “I know, I know, he has a reason to be furious about the situation, but there were other ways to handle it. Shit, all his wife had to do was report me to the Ministry. But, no, the bugger had to use an incendiary. Bastard could have killed all of you." 

The leopard lowered his head back into the water. Harry had the distinct feeling his words were being dismissed.

"Harry Potter, get your arse to headquarters now!" The deep voice reverberated through the small room, even before the lynx Patronus had fully formed. So much for dealing with Kingsley later. 

"Hell, Draco, I can't leave you here. Don't you ignore me! Do you want to go to my home with the coven or to your parents?” Harry slapped a hand to his forehead, disgusted with himself. “Oh, fuck! You can't talk. Growl for Grimmauld, hiss for your parents’ estate," Harry ordered, annoyed with everything getting out of control. The only things he wanted to direct his attention to were Draco and the coven. 

The leopard growled. 

"Good, because I didn't fancy delivering you to your father in this state."

******************************

Harry quietly opened the pocket doors leading into the drawing room. It was very late—or rather, very early, as dawn had already broken—and he was exhausted. The room's light came from the embers in the fireplace. The furniture had been removed and Harry surveyed the pile of people, animals, and those in-between, sleeping on the carpet in the centre of the room. Pillows and blankets were shared and shallow rhythmic breathing let him know that they were safe, at least for tonight, and for the next week. Draco slept closest to the fire, a paw resting on Anna, and Olivia curled up by his face. 

A small hand slipped into his. "Hey, we've been up waiting for you," Hermione whispered and pulled him out of the room and led him into the kitchen. Ron was slumped over the narrow kitchen table, his eyes half closed. Coffee and sandwiches lay untouched on the table. 

"What's going on?" Harry asked. 

Ron raised his head. "We heard about your suspension," he yawned out.

"You heard already?" Harry asked as he slumped into a chair. His bones had never felt so weary.

"Kingsley might be a tough bastard, Harry, but he doesn't want to lose you, either as an Auror or as a friend. He sent Dad a message, saying he suspended you and that you would need help. Dad called a few of the old Order of the Phoenix members who were Gryffindors for a meeting. Where'd you go after your meeting with Kingsley?"

A sad grin crossed Harry's face as he thought of the Order together again, but he didn't think they could be of much help in this case. 

"I was at the building, seeing if anything could be salvaged. It couldn't."

"How long is the suspension?" Hermione asked.

"One month at the minimum. It depends on whether the witches' families bring charges. I've got one week to get the witches to Transform completely, and then their families will be notified."

"And Malfoy, mate? What's going to happen to him if he changes back?"

Harry glared over at Ron. " _When_ , Ron, when he changes back. I don't know; it also depends on the coven and their families. At a minimum, he'll be put on probation, and if it gets bad, then he'll be charged with false imprisonment and be brought to a full Wizengamot trial. There's a possibility he'll go to Azkaban. Mr and Mrs Malfoy are in a mess, too."

"No! We'll take him with us," a forceful voice came from behind him. Harry turned around. 

"Nina, Mathilda, I didn't realise...," Harry started to say.

"You didn't realise we were awake," Nina chastised. "Our brother used to take the early morning watch, but he's exhausted and hurt. Mathilda and I volunteered."

"Come in. Sit down. Coffee? Tea? Sandwiches?" Hermione asked.

They both walked in, holding hands tightly, and sat down next to Harry.

"If that is what the Ministry has determined, and if we haven't all transformed in the given time, then we'll leave. All of us."

"But the mirror…" Harry said, "Your home was behind the door."

Mathilda laughed. Harry marvelled at how high pitched it was in her human form. "Harry, we're a unit, a family; our home is where we make it, and we will not be leaving our brother in need. We were there; we know either Bellatrix or Voldemort himself would have murdered us if Draco hadn’t done what he did."

"Or fed us to Greyback," Nina added. "Draco tried to save us by giving us a chance, and he did. Maybe _we_ should've reached out for help earlier, maybe _he_ should've, but it was all of our decisions. We each had a vote."

"So what can we do to help?" Hermione asked. 

"We can do intensive training," Ron suggested, "just like we did for the D.A., but I’m not sure we should actually do the spell."

"No, you won't be trying the spell," Nina said determinedly. "The mirror isn't necessary; at least that's my understanding."

Harry crumbled the crust on the sandwich Hermione set down to him. "No, it's not." 

He wanted to say more, but Kingsley had ordered him not to. Only Savage, Proudfoot, and Draco had seen him as an Animagus. He would register, but it would be kept top secret. Kingsley was thinking ahead and saw possibilities in Harry using his new form in future cases. He took a bite of the chicken salad sandwich. Draco's name and animal form, on the other hand, had already been recorded.

"McGonagall said she might be able to help. She did it without the mirror," Hermione said excitedly. 

"And don't forget about Witch Trudy," Ron added. "That was a bizarre scene, mate, her being able to understand them all. She and Elizabeth were amazing."

"Harry doesn't know, Ron," Hermione said.

"What?"

Nina put her hand on Harry's. He looked at her petite face; her small brown eyes were shining. "Witch Trudy is Elizabeth's mentor, her great-great-aunt." 

Harry smiled slightly to himself as he remembered thinking that the story of Elizabeth’s mentor had reminded him of someone—Witch Trudy, of course.

"The old crone said she wasn't telling a soul and for you not worry," Ron added, as he picked up another sandwich.

Harry shook his head and smiled. "That's terrific. We should do it here, though. I don't want the coven to be exposed again."

"But our way won't work for Draco. He _needs_ the mirror," Mathilda argued. "His transformation was so different from ours; neither Nina, Missy, nor I have had any residual effects, but Draco was still not fully recovered, and it's been almost a year."

"We're all going to have to watch him carefully in his current form. The animal instincts are strong, similar to Olivia's and mine, maybe even stronger. I'm guessing it has to do with being a hunter," Nina proffered.

"Stubborn snake," Harry murmured. "I'll concentrate on Draco. The rest of you need to read the book and talk with the witches and with McGonagall. We made a lot of progress last week." For the first time since the morning before, Harry felt some hope for the coven. 

**************************

The sun's strong rays warmed his fur; it had been too long since he had enjoyed a moment like this. For now, he would lie still and listen to the conversations around him. He didn't need to open his eyes; he knew everyone's voice, their scent, and the vibration of their steps. His right-hind muscle was injured, that he knew, and he knew the strike he had made against Harry had healed. He'd been furious with Harry, seeing him in his Animagus form yesterday morning. At first, he felt betrayed that Harry had done the spell, but then he knew: Harry would never betray him intentionally. He did it out of a need to find him, to help him as he'd promised. Draco had called, and Harry had come. It was as simple as that. As simple as being a true Gryffindor: courageous and loyal. 

"He didn't use house-elves?" He heard Ron mutter as he banished excrement from behind a high hedge. 

"At his parents' home, Narcissa did, but once we moved, Draco did everything we couldn't do ourselves," Jane explained. If Draco could have smiled, he would've right then. Jane and Anna recited a list of everything Draco had done for them since leaving his parents’ home. He felt exhausted just listening to it.

He stretched and licked his chops after releasing a generous yawn. His stomach was full and the late afternoon nap on the green grass had been long. Tomorrow, Saturday, he would be seeing Hogwarts' Headmistress for the first time since his horrific seventh year. She would be coming with Witch Trudy and staying the night. Neither could get away before the weekend without raising suspicion. He wondered if she would consider the things that had happened to him as being just.

The coven witches were taken with the Gryffindors that came to visit. He felt a pang of insecurity and abandonment at seeing them get along so well, but his sisters had their ways of knowing what he was feeling, and successfully dissuaded him from continuing down that path. They had all winced when the friends small jinxes and hexes were done in jest. Harry had put a stop to those, but the free flowing conversations and jokes were not inhibited. He knew this association was good for the coven; for them to be successful, they needed to have that characteristic spirit he had so detested in his youth. 

Ginny's pat on Harry's bum, though, had taken things too far. He couldn't inhibit the snarl and hiss, but he did refrain from pouncing on her and taking a bite out of her neck. Nina and Olivia congratulated him on doing so. Harry and his friends laughed, but Draco saw the momentary look of trepidation in Harry's eyes.

He knew Harry was approaching before he sat down on the grass next to him. The strong fingers worked their way through the thick fur around his neck. Harry lay down, resting his head on Draco’s side. It was nirvana. Harry didn't fear him, he trusted him, and most of all wanted to be near him. Draco's furry tail curled around and rested on Harry's thigh.

********************

"My dear witches, there is nothing to fear. You have the ability or you wouldn't have made it this far. Mr Potter has explained to me about your worries of ghosts. If you have any doubt about what he said, don't. I talk with ghosts every day. They did make the choice, and none of them were Animagi, werewolves, or anything else related to animals that your mind might conjure."

"Professor, Harry also mentioned that he's spoken with those that have passed on. We were raised with a belief in reincarnation and it's hard for us to accept this," Shelley said.

Draco's ears perked up as he was finishing the cleaning of his front paws. He had situated himself in the far corner of the drawing room. He knew these conversations, these lessons, were not for him. He should've never been able to cast the spell in the first place. The leopard he saw in the mirror four years ago had been transparent. It never fully formed until he successfully transformed last year.

"Minerva, I'll take this one," Witch Trudy said as she sat in a chair by the fire. Minerva sat in the other, while the coven witches formed a half-circle around them; the butterflies had alighted on Minerva's hat. Harry’s friends stood along the far wall. "Elizabeth's and my family believe in reincarnation and have practised _family magic_ for centuries. While I left my family many years ago, and chose to go to Hogwarts when I received my letter, I did not leave my beliefs behind. I study nature and magic down to their most basic components, including energy. I see the relationships, the connections, and there is nothing in science to disprove my beliefs, your beliefs, nor to disprove what Auror Potter has experienced. 

“We say the soul moves on, or at some point decides it has learned all it can learn from being on earth. Time is eternal, my loves, and twenty years for us might seem long, but in universal time, it isn't even a second. Auror Potter's parents, his godfather, and friends who have passed may still reincarnate, but in the meantime, their souls exist and are imprinted with their previous lives." The old witch stopped for a moment, cleared her throat and looked over at Minerva. 

"We've seen portraits that can still communicate with us, but we also know eventually they go silent. Is it just a fading of magic? I don't think so. I believe that they've moved on, but until then, they still guide and most certainly love us."

"Witch Trudy," a soft voice asked from the back of the room. Draco turned his head, looking at the blonde witch that had once been held captive in his family's cellar. "You were a Ravenclaw, weren't you?"

The old witch cackled. "Yes, Ms. Lovegood. And from what I know about you, you would understand how it is possible to believe in contradicting views and hold them both as true." 

Draco picked up a few chuckles from those standing around her. Even Harry had a grin, a cute grin, on his face. Draco licked his paw again for good measure. He needed a moment to process the thought that he still found Harry attractive while in his animal form. Trust was one thing, but fancying Harry in this form was not good. 

Draco rested his head on his paws as the room remained perfectly silent after Witch Trudy's speech. He never knew people like her existed. What she said wasn't incongruent with any of his own beliefs or what he had been taught in school. 

"Now, I think we should discuss other fears," Witch Trudy continued. "Fears of what will happen _when_ you are successful. This will be seen as a scandal by the papers, and your Slytherin friend, pretending to be non-interested while resting on his paws, will be blamed along with his parents."

The room erupted with voices, sounds, and movements. Kelly, the fox-witch, walked over to Witch Trudy and began barking and howling loudly. 

"Silence!" Minerva said with a raised voice. "Discussion is allowed, but we must take turns. Now I believe Kelly would like to be heard. Witch Trudy, would you do the honours?"

"Gladly, Minerva. Kelly has said that the coven would go into hiding with Draco if this were to happen." Witch Trudy smiled down at the fox and petted her head. "Now listen, darlings. What I said _will_ happen, but that does not mean that you will let it continue. I think it would be wise to once again return to your beliefs and remind your families that any negative action taken against your brother _will_ be returned threefold. It is unfortunate that Mildred's father and two older brothers did not take this to heart. Yes, her father is a Muggle, but many Muggles share our beliefs."

"Excuse me, Witch Trudy, you said Missy's brothers were involved. I wasn't aware of that," Harry interjected. 

Draco rose up onto his back haunches. If Harry didn't know, then what the old witch was saying was new information or had been kept secret.

"Auror Potter, I just finished my analysis of the crime scene and read the investigative reports. Missy's older brothers and father forced her to take Veritaserum. The father, as you know, is alive, but has a long road to recovery. Missy's older brothers died in the fire. Their ashes were found in what appeared to be a magical closet on the first floor. The mystery is why they were in there."

Draco felt his large heart pounding and the flood of adrenaline rush through his body as every head in the room turned his way. He wanted to run, but the leopard's instinct to fight won over.

"Fuck! Get out!" Harry yelled as he saw the leopard's posture.

"Now!" Olivia screamed. 

Draco growled as the room evacuated in haste. The sliding doors shut, and then he saw the one who remained. Others were yelling from the other room for the remaining wizard to leave. 

"I'm staying," Harry yelled back. "Leave us!"

The leopard leapt across the room, landing in front of Harry. He raised his paw and snarled, showing his fanged teeth. Harry didn't flinch.

"Draco! Stop! I know you didn't do it. You would never have done it."

Draco huffed and his eyes blinked at the flash of light. The black panther rose up on all fours and stared him down with his tail flashing. The impulse to fight was there; running wasn't a viable option in the enclosed room. The two competing modes of survival battled, and then in the recesses of his brain a third option revealed itself in flashes of memories. The snow leopard lay down on his side. The dark one circled him once, stood over him, and then began to bathe the white fur with its tongue. Draco stretched his neck, exposing the most vulnerable part of his anatomy, and relaxed with every lick.

******************************* 

The snow leopard paced the backyard of Grimmauld Place. He knew every spot of the gardens, every smell, every critter that tried to make it its home, and he knew he was growing impatient. In frustration, he flopped on the grass. The waiting for Harry to come home was infuriating, and being banished from the house was humiliating. Though he did understand the reasoning, that he couldn't be trusted in the house with just Ron and Hermione, or with their friends popping in and out. He'd already nudged Ron once a little too hard when the git had jinxed Harry as a joke the other day. 

Draco lay and looked up at the old trees. None of them could hold his weight if he tried to climb them, and the squirrels and birds seemed to know this. The furry and feathered bastards knew just how low to fly and the safe distance to come down and steal a seed. His tail swatted the fly that dared to land on his flank. He found this state of being a sentient animal both comforting and distressing. The comfort was that the leopard was powerful, and it allowed him to understand nature's subtle ways. It was distressing because he was a fucking leopard with no knowledge of how to change back. The Gryffindor witches had found their key, but where his was, he didn't know.

The April sky was filled with puffy clouds, the dark ones threatening to crash into each other and sprinkle rain on him. A strong breeze blew across the yard; the leopard's nose twitched. He picked up Harry's scent coming from an ancient apple tree. They both had marked every tree and bush in the yard over the previous weeks. He loved it when Harry transformed and they played together, chasing each other, wrestling together, and then just lying in the sun for an afternoon nap. The leopard yawned, and Draco, trapped in the feline body, lay there and thought about all that had happened.

It wasn’t supposed to have happened this way. He'd had dreams and fantasies of how the witches’ reunion would take place with their families. It would’ve taken place at the Manor, the only place grand enough to hold such a reunion. His sisters and their families would have had a huge celebration. Yes, he would have expected hard feelings, but once the families saw how close the coven was, how well they'd followed their beliefs, and how much they loved each other, they would have understood. It would've been on a summer day, with food and drink, and there would've been dancing; yes, definitely dancing.

It wasn’t supposed to have occurred in a dark house, despite the warmth Harry tried to add to the place. It wasn’t supposed to have included legal documents spread across a kitchen table and solicitors from the Ministry questioning each family about what charges, if any, they wanted to bring against Draco. The sisters were supposed to have been crying with joy, not with sorrow, when they were separated. Moreover, he certainly was not supposed to be lying on the floor catching the sun’s rays as they filtered through the window, listening in on his possibly troubled future. His parents had even been present. They had given sworn testimony on his behalf and repeated testimony they'd given at their own trial five years before about their roles in the war. To his amazement, Harry even defended the Malfoys and some of their actions in the war. Louisa, whose voice was now melodious to his ears, had whispered to him that such testimony was given because Harry was blinded by love. The leopard had huffed. In the end, the witches' families seemed to believe he meant no harm, and to harm him would hurt their newly-found daughters.

He did find joy in seeing the witches, whom he had only seen as girls, grown into beautiful women, and Harry found great amusement in how they fussed over him. That Sunday morning, after having long discussions with McGonagall and Witch Trudy, the coven witches just did it, transformed, one right after another. Harry had stood by the leopard, petting his head and ears while they watched and blinked with the succession of flashes. It all seemed so simple, too simple, as they became fully formed animals and then witches. No one had asked why Draco hadn’t changed. They all knew their way was not his way out of the situation.

Harry had brought him into his bedroom the first night after his sisters had left Grimmauld. All promised they would return, and that Sunday nights would be set aside for them to join in a magical ritual and dinner. Draco had curled up by the fire while Harry talked. There were instances in which he had wanted to swat Potter, when the git had treated him as if he were human. He’d asked questions expecting an answer. The growls, huffs, and hisses were getting frustrating; the purrs, though, were nice.

Now, weeks had passed. The witches had come back on Sundays, and Draco had sulked when he saw the look in their eyes: pity. Pity was one of the major reasons the coven had wanted to stay secret after the war and he felt the full brunt of theirs. 

Missy had joined them on the second Sunday; no forgiveness was necessary on either end. Through Witch Trudy and Elizabeth's translations, they learned from Draco that Missy’s father had pushed his sons into the coven’s concealed room, thinking it was an escape, a way out, not realizing that, once the magic was destroyed, it was just a closet. Draco had tried to stop him and had finally bit the man and dragged him to the street when the flames became too strong. What happened, happened, and that was all there was to it. 

Harry had one week of suspension left for withholding evidence in a possible criminal case. Draco had been looking forward to today. Harry had agreed to take him to his parents' home, and together they would go hunting on the Malfoy property. Instead, a Ministry owl had arrived early in the morning, and Harry had looked worried, showered, fed him, and left. So now he lay on the grass covered in shadows of newly budding branches.

The squeak of the screen door woke him. It was past sunset, but the sky still held a hint of daylight. He recognised Harry's scent and the gait of his walk. 

"Hey, Draco, ready to come in?" Harry asked, squatting down and petting his coat. 

Draco let his tail do the talking and flicked the tip of it. Was he ready to come in? As if this had been his idea to be out all day, bored out of his cat skull. 

"We need to talk," Harry said. Draco's head popped up. The tone of Harry's voice was much too serious for his liking. It was then he saw the glistening green eyes rimmed in red, and that Harry was dressed in his formal Auror robes.

He stood up, stretched, and followed Harry towards the house. 

"Come on. Let's go to our room," Harry said as they entered the kitchen and petted Draco's head and twisted his left ear.

The fire was lit; Harry sat on the edge of his bed. Draco sat in front of him on the floor and for the first time noticed that Harry's hands were shaking as they reached out to pet his face. 

"Hey, we got some bad news this morning, and I've been at the Ministry all of this time hoping to...." Harry stopped talking. Draco wanted to swat him with his paw, but refrained; he wondered where all of that Gryffindor courage had gone. "I need you, Draco," Harry mouthed silently before hugging him around his neck. He couldn't hear any sobbing but his fur was getting damp. He twisted his way out Harry's embrace and snarled as he repositioned himself again before Harry.

Harry removed his glasses and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry; it's just hard to say. Another family has come forward and pressed charges," he choked.

Draco tilted his head, not quite sure he understood what Harry was saying.

Harry thinned his lips and nodded once. "It was Beatrice's family, Draco, and they aren't family magic practitioners. As you guessed, Beatrice was from London. She was the only child of a member of the Wizengamot. They initially pressed for a murder charge."

Draco waited for the rush of panic to strike him. It didn't. This, he knew somewhere in his human heart, he deserved. Not for killing Beatrice, but for all his other misdeeds and the cruelty he had shown in his youth; it was coming back and it certainly felt threefold.

"Your parents, Elizabeth, and Anna were there today. All of us explained the situation. The final charge was manslaughter. Given your current condition, your parents were assigned authority to negotiate a sentence. We all thought it was in your best interest to plead guilty, as there are still members on the Wizengamot who are furious that the other witches didn't press charges. In addition, Beatrice's mother still has friends on the court." Harry stopped and caught his breath. "However, given that the coven is now close to having celebrity status in the papers, she knew there would be public outrage when all of the facts were revealed. There was too much at stake not to take the offer."

Draco huffed.

Harry cupped his cheek in his hand and rubbed his thumb over his still singed whiskers. "Six months, Draco, in Azkaban, once you transform." Draco's tail swished, then he padded over to the fireplace, and lay down. 

Harry removed his dress robes and lay down next to him. His hand reached out and stroked the leopard down his side. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Draco noticed the shaking had worsened and he knew Harry felt helpless and needed him to be human. "I'm not sure if I would change if I were you. A free leopard sounds much better than an imprisoned wizard." Draco wanted to roll his eyes; instead, he raised his paw and struck Harry on the head lightly.

"It's up to you, you know, when you want to change. It always has been," Harry whispered, continuing to stroke the white and black fur. "You have the power to do it. It's not a matter of submitting like you did before, Draco, submitting to the animal." Draco wasn't sure where Harry was headed, but something was ringing true. "It's giving in to the human side. My _nawa jūjun_ knows that."

Draco’s ears perked up.

Harry smiled. "Yes, we're partners, but you, you are the one with power, Draco. I can only take what you give freely. You say _Gryffindor_ , and I stop. The same is true with the leopard. He is dominant, but you, my _nawa jūjun_ , are the one with the power. You are the one who can tell the leopard you've had enough," Harry said softly and turned on his side to face Draco. "Just say Gryffindor," he whispered. 

The silence of the room held for a long period. Draco soon recognised Harry's rhythmic breathing. He didn't want to move and wake Harry up, so continued to lie still as he thought. He knew that if Harry hadn't promised him an exclusive relationship, he would have been at the Shrieking Shack with another model. _Azkaban_ Draco thought. He'd believed during some point in his sixth year that he would wind up there or dead. It amazed him that he had escaped the prison's clutches for so long. Six months was nothing compared to the years he'd be stuck as an animal if he never transformed. 

The fire was burning low, and the room was dark. Harry stirred and struggled to get up. He staggered over to his bed and removed his clothes, dropping them to the floor, and crawled between the sheets. Draco watched him in the failing light. His leopard vision was perfect, not like the previous time. Harry grabbed a pillow, clutched it like a child with a teddy bear, and rolled on his side. Draco waited until he heard the shallow breathing again before allowing himself to slumber.

A familiar scent brought the leopard to quick attention. He didn't move, his instincts telling him to wait until he deciphered what it was. His tufted ears turned towards the small sounds coming from Harry's bed. He opened his eyes. Only small embers remained from the fire, but he could see clearly. There were struggling movements under the sheets. Draco worried that Harry was having a nightmare, but he soon understood the scent meant something different. Pheromones. He couldn't help but watch, fascinated by the strained look on Harry's face. It wasn't a relaxing wank, it was one of desperation. He wanted to go over to the bed, to let Harry know he was there, to let him touch him in that way, but he couldn't. He was failing Harry in so many ways; he wondered how long Harry would put up with him. The moans tantalized him, the groans tortured him, and then there was stillness in the air and in movement. The leopard died as he heard the cry, "Draco, oh God, Draco!"

"Harry."

* * *

_October, 2003_

"Hey, mate, what're you doing in? I thought you weren't going to be back until next Monday. Draco okay?"

Harry smiled as he poured his second cup of morning coffee. "He told me to get my bum back to work. He's okay; he just needs time. For the last three days, all he's done is eat, sleep, and shower."

"Can't blame 'im for that."

Harry stirred in the cream and sugar. He brought the cup to his lips and blew across it. "I don't blame him at all. It's just hard to let him out of my sight. He saw his parents last night for a few hours, and, of course, the coven came over the previous night. As much as I love them, I wanted them to leave after about an hour."

Ron shook his head. "A little possessive, are we?"

"Suppose so. I just can't shake the feeling that it's all going to come crashing down again, and that this isn't real."

Ron punched him on the shoulder, sending Harry's coffee slurping over the side of his cup. "See you at lunch? Hermione said Luna is cooking for us at the house. I could let her know that you're coming."

"Sure. Sounds good. How's it going living with two witches?"

Ron glared at him.

Harry laughed and walked towards his office. He set his coffee down on his desk and flopped into his chair. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to work today. Every nerve was on fire, every sense alert since he’d picked Draco up from Azkaban three days ago. Draco had appeared so thin in the dirty prison garb, but he had held his head up high as he had walked into the release station. He had nodded to Harry and simply said, "I'm ready to go home."

The first few hours had been the toughest, Harry remembered. Eyes drifting closed, he relived Draco’s return to him….

Draco wanted to be alone to shower and to dress. He met Harry in the kitchen and ate an enormous lunch. Neither knew what to say, and for a horrible few hours, Harry thought maybe things had changed. He wanted to hold Draco, but he was afraid to touch him. He had no idea what had happened in Azkaban. Communications were limited, and only short letters were allowed. They ended up playing a game of chess. The silence continued, and soon Harry realised he was comfortable with it. He had so many questions for Draco, but now they had a lifetime to talk. Right now, this was just another first for them. Home alone, in _their_ home, as Harry referred to Grimmauld Place, and it was the soft moments that needed to be treasured. 

"I'm tired," Draco said as he checkmated Harry. "Would you care to join me for a nap?"

Harry could tell Draco approved of their bedroom; it was simple like his own had been in his flat. He had added an Oriel window that looked down onto the Muggle street, and African Violets filled the sill. The coven had helped him make the whole house a home. It was a refuge for the two of them, filled with a feeling of nostalgia that had graced Draco's flat. Draco stripped his clothes off and climbed between the warm white sheets. 

"Please, Harry, join me."

Harry shivered with the memory. He had removed his clothes, crawled in the bed next to Draco, and spooned his body around him. Draco had turned his head and they kissed, softly, and then Draco turned back over and drifted off to sleep.

“ _Patience,”_ Harry whispered out loud. Patience was what Draco needed right now. Slowly, Draco revealed what the previous six months had been like. It was the noises that got to him the most. The constant sound of the North Sea beating upon the prison walls, and then the prisoners were never silent, not knowing if it was night or day. Everything was ugly and in shades of grey: the cell walls, the uniforms, even the single sheet on the thin mattress. There was no beauty to be seen. When the time was right, Harry decided, he would show Draco the room he had made for them in the attic. There would be no more Shrieking Shack. 

"Morning, Savage," Harry mumbled as the older Auror walked by. "What's happening on the Baker case? Do we know where the potions are being smuggled in from?"

"Iceland. Well, at least that is the furthest we've traced–"

Harry winced as the warm spot became hot on his thigh. "Sorry, Savage.... Uh, I've got to go," Harry said and Disapparated. 

"Draco?" Harry yelled from the entryway. His voice carried through the empty house. He took off his leather jacket and hung it up. It was then he saw the note.

> _Nawashi,_

> _The time is right. Kômon Sarashi Shibari._

> _Your nawa jūjun_

Harry smiled and raced up three flights of stairs. Draco had found _their_ room. He slowed his pace and caught his breath as he reached the landing of the attic floor. The door straight ahead was ajar. His hand shook, not with panic, but with anticipation. He pressed against the heavy oak door, opening it further. He lost his breath. 

The late-autumn sun, low in the morning sky, shone through the wall of windows and fully encompassed the naked body kneeling in the middle of the polished wood floor. Never mind that his back revealed that he was thinner than he should be, or that his hair was too long. Harry was awed by the vision. He saw the single black rope extending over the spread, bent knees and a more colourful green one on his left side. On the floor to his right, a single piece of parchment.

It was the parchment that Harry bent down and picked up first, his eyes never looking at Draco, whose head was bowed. The drawing was much better than the one he had done. Draco's mastery of drawing the physical body was superior to his own. Harry had tried recreating them since the fire, but doing them alone hurt too much. He wanted to hear what Draco had to say about them and have him add his own touches. Now, here was Draco's interpretation of Harry's fantasy. It was one of the simplest rope bondages to do, and while he had used it numerous times on his models as part of a larger design, he never had used it for its purpose. The _kômon sarashi shibari_ would be in black. The added macramé gauntlets ending just below the elbows would be in green. He picked up the green rope from the floor and removed the black one from Draco's lap. 

"Over to the chaise," Harry ordered. 

The antique chaise by the window had been a special find for Harry. In his spare time during the previous six months, he travelled the continent searching for the furniture pieces he thought Draco would appreciate. Some of them still held their magic like this one. It raised and lowered its height when requested and widened when it recognised two bodies. The black velvet was worn, but smooth to the touch. 

Draco stood next to it, waiting for Harry. Harry could see Draco looking out at the view. The Muggle high-rise buildings were lighting as people entered their offices. Harry kept the green rope in his hand and released the other to fall on the chaise. Draco tracked its movement as if it were a snake that might somehow escape. 

"Wrists," Harry said impatiently, surprised that Draco was distracted. Two thin arms with lithe muscles were presented to him. It was the first time Harry saw the faded Dark Mark; it had never been quite so visible in candlelight, and now he knew that Draco must have kept it from his view by some charm. He recognised the symbolism of Draco not doing so now. He was revealing all.

Harry ran two fingers over the Mark and then bent down and did the same with his lips. A soft hiss came from Draco. Harry glanced up as his tongue traced the snake. Draco's eyes widened. Harry arched a brow and straightened up. Within minutes, he had Draco's forearms cuffed together in front of his body. Harry took advantage of the situation and let his fingertips trail over Draco's hipbones. He hoped in the future they wouldn't be so pronounced. Draco didn't flinch, but his penis did. It was still soft and limp, but Harry doubted it would be for long. He leant over and picked up the black rope; Draco took a step to the side.

The folded rope was wrapped once around Draco's waist, the lark's knot made at his belly button and the length pulled through. The double strand went down to just above Draco's cock, and Harry tied an overhead knot. He blinked once when he saw Draco's balls tightening. Harry quickly passed the rope strands on either side of the forming erection and through Draco's spread legs. Draco turned and another knot was made four inches above the area Harry couldn't wait to explore. He shook his head, trying not to look ahead, but rather to enjoy the process that would get him there. The rope felt like an extension of his fingers as he pulled it and tied it off at the circle around Draco's waist. The two ends were then slanted down, wrapped around Draco's hips, and brought back to the front. Harry was pleased to see Draco's cock had fully hardened. He deftly moved the rope's ends through the centre vertical ropes, separating them, and then took each strand back around Draco's upper thighs. This would be the last turn. Harry pulled each end through the double strand going up Draco's crack. The ends of the rope hung straight down to the ground.

Harry stepped back and smiled at his work. It wasn't fancy; the simplicity of the black ropes on Draco's white skin was perfection. He led Draco onto the chaise. 

"Kneel and bend over," Harry commanded. The deepness of his voice surprised even him. He stepped to the end of the chaise, lowering the height until the cushions were on the floor; he knelt down between Draco's spread legs. 

_’Kômon sarashi shibari_ , to tie with anus exposed,’ Harry said to himself. Originally designed to humiliate, it was done now for pure pleasure. He wrapped the hanging ropes around each hand, leant over, and kissed each arse cheek before pulling on the lines. Draco's cheeks opened, exposing the hole Harry had fantasized about tasting and fucking. Only one would be fulfilled this morning.

The silence of the room was broken by a whimper when Harry leant forward making the first tongue swipe along the complete exposure. _A first_ , he reminded himself as the tip searched out the small opening. Finding it, he soothed over it repeatedly, wetting the area, releasing the private scent that was only for him. Draco's quietness signalled to Harry that he was withdrawing inwards, into his own world, leaving Harry to his own pleasure. The tip pierced the small opening. With Draco's spirit tranquil, his body was left relaxed. Harry pushed in, finding only a slight resistance; his hands pulled the ropes tighter, opening Draco wider. He closed his eyes, leaving the images of the attic behind and concentrating on advancing deeper. Lost in his own world he barely heard the word, _more_.

Harry reluctantly withdrew. "What is it you want?" he asked, his tone acerbic from being disturbed. 

"Fuck me," Draco whispered.

Harry fell back, his bum resting on his calves. He'd waited so long, but he’d sworn the first time wouldn't be while Draco was bound. 

"No," he stated firmly.

"Why?"

Harry's heart broke at the inflection of sadness.

He dropped the ropes and manoeuvred over to where Draco's face touched the cushion. He looked into the grey eyes searching his for a reason. Harry reached out and stroked Draco's face, pushing the hair hanging down out of the way. 

"I thought our first time would be without the ropes."

"I thought the opposite," Draco said with a pensive grin. "I understand if you don't want me that way."

Harry flicked him on the cheek. "Don't, Draco, don't think that. I just wanted us to be on equal terms."

Draco smirked. "What? You don't like me having the power in this setup?"

"I hate you." Harry laughed. "You're using my own words against me."

Draco's brow arched. "Potter, you don't hate me. Now get the lube and fuck me already."

"Merlin, what happened to my nawa jūjun who was so wonderfully submissive when I came into the room?" Harry teased as he stood up, withdrew his wand, and Summoned a small pot from the adjoining loo. "Can I at least release your hands?" Harry asked as he unscrewed the lid.

"No," Draco responded boldly. "This was the fantasy I held onto in Azkaban."

Harry relented. Draco had never verbalized a fantasy before. 

"Fine, have it your way," Harry replied. "You're going to regret it though, when you can't even grab your own dick to get off."

Draco smirked. "I don't think I'll need to, if you do it right."

Harry shook his head and moved back behind Draco. His fingers stroked the lube down the crevice, his index finger stopping at the wet hole, and swirled the lube around the entrance before penetrating. A part of him was thrilled hearing Draco hiss. He pushed in further, a second finger joining the first. Draco pushed back and moaned, forcing Harry's fingers in deeper. 

"Patience, Draco. You may have your fantasies, but I know reality and I don't want it to hurt...too much."

Draco laughed. "Bastard."

"Yes, and you love it," Harry bantered back as a third finger tried to expand the ringed muscle.

"Phht, you think I'm in love with you, Potter...oh sh...!"

"Tell me you’re not, Malfoy."

Silence filled the room. Harry grinned to himself as he began earnestly moving his fingers in and out. He curled them, searching for the place he knew would make Draco break his silence. Draco's body jerked, and he groaned. 

"Like that?" Harry asked as he withdrew his fingers. Draco hissed again. Harry reached down, unbuckled his trousers, lowered the zip, and pushed down the clothing. He reached into the pot again and coated his dick with the lube. 

With ropes in hand, he spread Draco open to receive him. He gently pushed, the head of his cock forcing Draco to open more than he had for his fingers. Harry waited. The process was always long the first time, but so worth the wait. _Patience,_ he told himself as he thrust in further, and Draco's body expanded around him. The urge to go deeper, to feel his cock surrounded by Draco's warmth was too strong. The urge to take him fiercely and to fuck him until he screamed was overwhelming. Harry bit his lower lip to restrain himself. 

"More," Draco begged.

Harry was sure he'd lose control as he grasped Draco's hips, forcing his way completely in. His whole body quivered with the tightness and heat. Draco moaned as Harry slowly moved his hips forward and back. 

Harry stopped. It suddenly hit him, that, even though this was their first time, there would be a lifetime of more. He leant over Draco's body and blew the hair away from his ear.

"I love you, my nawa jūjun."

_finis_

 

Additional Disclaimers:  
The following websites on Shibari were used. Please note: In some cases, I paraphrased the rope art instructions within the story. These are all adult sites. But then you shouldn't have read this story if you're under eighteen.  
Kômon sarashi shibari: http://www.japaneseropeart.com/RopeArt/Komon_Sarashi/Komon.html  
Rope corset: http://www.japanrope.com/tutorial5/tutorial5-t.html  
Karada: http://ms.ha.md.us/~tammad/over21/bondage/karada1/

In addition, the menu items from their dinner in Edinburgh were taken from:  
http://www.taste-of-scotland.com/members/haldanes_restaurant.html  
http://www.taste-of-scotland.com/members/tower_restaurant_edinburgh.html

The beliefs of the coven, except the ghost theory, were based upon Wiccan ideology. My apologies for any misrepresentation.


End file.
